The Dangers of Foresight
by Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet
Summary: Anakin's 9 years old again and back at the Temple, bound and determined to change destiny. To do so, he has to juggle trying to stop Dooku from joining Sidious, freeing his mother, avoiding Palpatine, and his training all while maintaining his cover as a 9-year-old initiate. Too bad keeping up a facade isn't one of his strong points.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: This is a sequel to "Hindsight is Not Perfect". You may want to read that before you read this. ^^;_

Prologue

_32 BBY_

As far as Anakin Skywalker knew, the Jedi Temple had three cafeterias. The largest remained open for all hours to serve Jedi Padawans, Knights and Masters that didn't have time to cook in their own private quarters. The smallest was rarely open, reserved for special occasions, such as visiting senators or the rare Council dinner. Anakin could remember using both during his previous experience as a Jedi. The third area had scheduled hours of operation as it had been built for the initiates and creche children. As such, he had only seen the third cafeteria, but had never actually used it.

Until now.

And as far as he was concerned, the pleasure could have been indefinitely postponed. He'd decided almost immediately that didn't care for it. The various robots and creche teachers would watch the childrens' nutrient intake like a Hut watched their bank accounts. When one child wasn't eating up to standard, he would be _strongly encouraged_ to add something to the plate, or to not take as much.

Still, Anakin couldn't quite bring himself to complain about the entire experience...especially the food. After all, anything was better than being force-fed through tubes and wires in a special chamber created specifically for him. Suppressing a mild shudder and pushing those memories to the side, Anakin took another sip of his pleasantly tangy drink and glanced around the large room.

It had a typical 'Jedi' feel to it, albeit slightly more colorful. The somewhat brighter decorations came in the form of encouraging wall-hangings and signs that Anakin hadn't ever seen elsewhere in the Temple. However, the base colors of the walls and carpets consisted of neutral creams, browns and grays that most Jedi rooms sported.

The children themselves moved in slow, lazy patterns that gave off a sense of peace and confidence no adult could ever truly possess. It was an atmosphere of naivete, and Anakin found he actually enjoyed that one facet of his recently established Jedi lifestyle despite himself, even if the classes were...difficult to endure in just about every other aspect.

Learning with children from the creshe had been trying for Anakin the first time. Between the condescending teachers, jealous or awe-struck peers and being either incredibly behind or extremely advanced in just about every subject, it was a wonder he'd passed any classes at all. Now, with his superior knowledge in every single subject, the whole situation tended to border on infuriating.

And he didn't have Obi-wan to support him this time around. As a matter of fact, Anakin rarely saw the knight as he was often gone on missions like any normal Jedi. The only person who could give Anakin any backing at all happened to be a little green troll that was far too busy to actually help more than occasionally.

Not that he needed that support. After all, they were just a bunch of children that he could best at practically anything with the exception of stupidity. He would not let them intimidate him. He would not!

Yet, as he sat during their shared free hour at lunch at the lone table he'd chosen, he couldn't help but think that his life at the Temple was fated to always be miserably boring when it wasn't utterly maddening. He hadn't expected much different, but he'd truly forgotten how cruel and exclusive children could be without even realizing it. For a second time in his life, he'd been completely ostracized. And why not? The other children had long since formed their cliques and groups, and because of their reclusive upbringing, they were not accustomed to letting newcomers in.

Actually, the only other high point of his placement was the fact that he didn't seem to have any classes with...a few sentients his own age that he really wasn't ready to deal with yet. He knew he'd have to face Ferus and...the others, but he really wasn't sure how to handle them. Part of him wanted to forget they ever existed, but at the same time, he knew they could be very handy in a hard situation and he knew he needed allies still. It would be his choice as to whether he would allow them into his life this time around, and he appreciated that it was his choice to make, but he'd decided to put it off for now. He had the time to be patient after all and rushing into a decision with so much baggage attached...well, he wanted to know he could handle that decision well, whatever he chose.

Absently, he stuck a slice of a random sweet but slightly spicy fruit he didn't know the name of into his mouth and couldn't help a small smile. He would never take the ability to taste anything for granted again.

He opened his eyes and resumed his study of his current fellow classmates. No one watched him, no one looked at him, and no one seemed to care that he was there. Oh, that had not been the case for the first few days, but unlike his previous lifetime, it hadn't lasted. Now he seemed to be more invisible than anything.

Normally, he hated being invisible and even now it irked him somewhat. But, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, he would have to admit that he did not feel as unaccepted as he had in his previous life. Whether that was due to his own maturity, his lack of attachment to the 'Sith Killer' (as some of them had called Obi-wan), or the fact that no one seemed to know of his background this time, he couldn't tell. Truthfully, he didn't much care to find out. It was amusing enough at the moment to watch the groups from afar—which wasn't exactly a new circumstance for him. Anakin had always felt like an outcast of some sort. Besides, with his knowledge of strategy, mechanics and even advanced lightsaber theory, he doubted it would last.

He was almost surprised that rumors hadn't already begun to circulate. He didn't trust the Council to keep his supposed Dark Side training or his title of 'The Chosen One' secret for long. There were always leaks, but it hadn't happened yet, and he found that he could actually enjoy anonymity for a little while. For once, he found he was happy enough to be patient and wait.

That thought amused him. Obi-wan...well, his Obi-wan from his timeline, would have probably had a heart attack at Anakin choosing to be patient over something like this. In his previous life, he would have done everything he could to not be invisible. Any attention was better than no attention. As an adult, he realized that that was just how a former slave would think...and that was exactly why he had decided not to do anything openly rash or drastic this time around if he could help it.

Despite being mostly content though, his decision annoyed him enough to be a bother. It boiled down to the fact that he just wasn't a man of thought. He was, and always had been, a man of action. Then again, maybe that had been his biggest problem.

Finished with his lunch, he gathered his things and put the plates together, heading for the drop off area. A few children noticed him as he passed, either glancing causally without care, or sending him a small smile or a scowl. Strangely enough, the latter were few and far between. He only barely remembered half of the initiates names. Most of them had been killed in the clone wars before he'd turned, so thankfully he didn't have that kind of baggage on his conscience. In return to their cursory glances he would simply nod politely back and move on.

As he meandered through the room, he couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversations. He found them interesting to overhear simply because they all seemed so whimsical. The girls would talk about the different knights or their idols and their latest exploits as much as the boys did, but the conversations seemed fundamentally different. The boys would get excited and insistent, while the girls would usually use a quieter argument as to who was best. Sometimes he would catch snippets of different class assignments while other times, he would find people quietly discussing homework. Every now and then, he'd even overhear different groups arguing over the recent interactive games and other such things of equal importance. He liked overhearing those the best. It entertained him to think of all the stalwart Jedi he used to know discussing computerized games and holo vids as children. The Chreche children weren't allowed much in the way of media, but they tended to obsess over what they did have.

One particular conversation caught his ears as he passed one of the tables closest to the dish drop-off.

"I can't believe he actually left," a girl with long, dark hair whispered to a boy with dark blue skin that shimmered in the light. Anakin couldn't place the species, strangely enough. That had happened quite a bit recently. He knew he didn't know all of the species in the universe, but he would have thought he'd have at least a good chunk down-

"Why would Master Dooku leave?" the boy whispered back. Anakin froze, eyes widening. The next moment he'd rushed up to the table with the two initiates, his dishes clattering onto the table between their plates.

"What did you say?" he asked, uncaring that his voice had turned harsh. Startled, the two jumped. For a moment he wanted to scoff at their lack of training, but the moment passed quickly as he needed to make sure he'd heard correctly.

The girl and boy exchanged glances before the boy looked up with blue, slitted eyes. "I-it's been all around the Temple. Master Dooku left the order about a week ago. There are rumors that he'll be added to the list of 19."

For a moment, all Anakin could do was stare at the two not-yet-Jedi. Then he nodded to them. "Thank you," he muttered politely and started walking back towards his previous destination with one thought on his mind: For the first time in his life, he'd waited too long. Well, he'd have to rectify that.

He didn't remember the cleaning droid taking his dishes, nor did he really remember those initiates at the table staring after him as he left. He only vaguely recalled sprinting down the hall and up a flight of stairs. Entering the Jedi Library, it wasn't difficult to gain access to one of the computers stationed there, and he sat down quietly. For now, he needed information.

He typed "Dooku" into the computer and waited for the results to come up on the holographic screen.

xXx

_Author's Note:_ Alright! Yes, it is FINALLY here! Woot! Short, I know, but expect the chapters to be at least three times as long on a regular basis. Anyway, here are a few things I'd like to say:

Firstly, I'd like to thank Batfan7 _IMMENSELY _because she's helped me write this upcoming chapter for 2 (almost 3) years. Yes, that's how long it took me, partly because I didn't know where exactly I was going (okay, I'm still not a hundred percent sure, but I do have a vague idea) and partly because finding anything on Anakin's contemporaries at the Temple was a nightmare! Seriously, I went to the local library and they didn't have any _Jedi Quest_ books before #5! Aarg! SO frustrating! Everything I know about them is from Wookiepedia, and while I love that source and it gives an overview, I don't know the nuances of their relationships and I would really, _really_ like to. So if anyone knows where I can get those books (not to be confused with _Jedi Apprentice-_which is Obi-wan and Qui-gon-or _Young Jedi Knights_-which is about Jacen and Jaina) for a VERY cheap price or where I can rent them for free (preferably), PLEASE let me know! It would make writing this SO much faster and easier!

Also, I can't make any promises on updates. I'm working on finishing _Reflected Legacy_ right now (my Leia and Han time travel fic) as well as _Anything but Normal_ (my Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood story), and I want to finish my Naruto and Bleach stories as well plus I have original stories I'm working on. *Sigh* Stupid plot bunnies of doom. This is all on top of looking for a new job as my old one fell through.

Thank you to everyone who has read Hindsight is Not Perfect and reviewed especially! I may not always respond, but I do always read them and that's part of why I keep doing this! :D So thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

_Three galactic standard months later_

Anakin smiled as he stepped onto the air taxi in civilian clothing, positive that his temporary escape from the temple would not be discovered. He took a moment to shake his head sadly at how much easier it was to slip past the robots and other supposedly air-tight security measures than it had been to trick Obi-wan when he'd forgotten to lock the door at night.

He couldn't help but feel a little grateful for (and more than a little smug at his circumvention of) the conditions at the Temple now. He needed to do this without interference...and Obi-wan would have definitely interfered. Any other master probably would have as well, for that matter—which was exactly why his not being taken by a master had turned out to be such a positive development. Besides, it gave him more options. He didn't have to sneak out in the middle of the night this time around. If he were lucky, he could get away quite easily in the early evening.

The taxi ride was short, and half of a galactic standard hour later, he slipped into a public, intergalactic Comm unit booth. This would be expensive, but hopefully worth it. It irked him to no end that he had to tap into the savings he'd begun for his mother's release, but in the end decided that he'd just have to work harder to make up the difference.

The Jedi didn't give an allowance to the children as it encouraged selfishness and greed (Anakin rolled his eyes at that thought; he had his own opinions on such matters). Padawans, Knights and Masters didn't get any money on a regular basis either. Instead, the Jedi had several large accounts set up with different financial circuits across the Republic that someone on a mission could tap into if necessary. The council also encouraged Jedi to take some credits with them before they left the temple so they could be prepared. Those types of transactions tended to be handled by Knights and Masters, so Anakin wouldn't have any access to anything other than what he could acquire outside of the temple's knowledge.

Fortunately, it hadn't been difficult to hook up with some of his old racing circuits. After a few demonstrations, he'd been able to get a sponsor and then had begun collecting a nice little nest egg of winnings. He even had a loose budget worked out now and different accounts that he split the money between. The whole idea of being somewhat responsible with the credits he earned was something rather new, but he had to plan it out if he wanted enough money to free his mother and fund his personal crusade. Sneaking out to race on a regular basis wasn't so new...at least, not to him. He'd just started his 'delinquency' a little earlier this time, albeit for completely different reasons.

After a few small modifications to the Comm unit, he returned to the holographic interface and put his bank number and other personal information (all false) into the system. After a few seconds, the approval signature came through and Anakin punched in the Comm number.

Finding the private frequency had not been easy. Still he was more than a little frustrated that it had taken him as long as it had to obtain it. Without any of his real contacts set up, he'd had to crack several of the Jedi Temple's security systems without letting anyone know. And that had been the real trick. Anakin's strengths lay in hardware more than software, especially after years and years of telling the peons to do the grunt work while he had top-level access.

Truthfully, he just hoped that he wasn't too late.

The droid-like voice that had previously asked him for his information spoke up again. "Comm line verified. Would you like to place this call?" A 'yes' and 'no' popped up on the holographic screen in front of him. He reached for the 'yes', but his hand paused over the word. Not for the first time, he questioned whether he should be doing this at all. He hadn't been able to fix anything big enough to change the future yet, and honestly, he wasn't even sure he could. But if he couldn't, there certainly wasn't anyone else who could. So far, he'd only been able to bring about small, positive changes; minuscule events that wouldn't mean anything in the long run. His trying to meddle in more dire affairs had only resulted in something similar to or worse than the previous time-line. Events such as Qui-gon dying and almost getting Padme killed.

If he went through with this, he wasn't sure he could account for even half of the possible, extremely undesirable repercussions. This could let Palpatine know far too much, far too soon...and he needed to avoid that at all costs. His lightsaber skills had come a long way from his previous state of weakness when he'd first come back in time, but he wouldn't put himself up against a senior padawan yet, let alone a Sith Master. No, he was not ready and wouldn't be for a while.

Still, if he could accomplish this one task, it could throw all of Sidious' plans back for months, if not years. That, and he might have another ally. For about the hundredth time, he came to the same conclusion; the possible positive results outweighed the negative ones, if only barely.

His finger hit the holographic "yes" and the call began to ring through. He always had been a risk taker anyway.

Before the other line could pick up, Anakin did one final thing; he slipped on a mask. It wasn't anything overly dramatic, just a straight, white, blank mask with two eyes cut out and nothing else. He needed to hide his identity if he were to pull this off, for several reasons. First, why would Dooku listen to a Temple initiate? Why _should_ he? Second, Anakin wasn't sure of the Count's current alliance: light, dark or gray. If Dooku had already spoken to and made an alliance with Sidious, then Anakin would have to rely on his skills and knowledge of the underground (as well of the second change of clothes he wore underneath his current attire) to get him back to the temple untraced and alive.

"Your call has been accepted," the voice said, just as Anakin finished arranging the hood of the tunic he was wearing.

The voice that came over the other line sounded rather amused, and slightly intrigued. "Count Dooku of Serenno, speaking."

xXx

Growing up in the Jedi Temple had, unsurprisingly, taught Dooku many things. First and foremost was that nothing was really as it seemed. Only slightly less important to him was the fact that patience got you everywhere, so he'd cultivated his to a point where he could outlast just about anyone on any subject. Or so he'd thought. His current project was trying his supposedly bottomless patience immensely, and he'd only been really searching for a little over a galactic standard month.

It had been nothing short of horrendously difficult to continually track down clues to the whereabouts of the Sith Lord that the former Viceroy of the Trade Federation had informed him of. Despite his contacts and diligence, he still had almost nothing to go on. He also had a suspicious feeling that what little he did have was leading him somewhere specifically. He hated being manipulated, but if that was the only way to uncover the truth, than so be it. If the Jedi would not address this problem, then he would.

That was, after all, why he had decided to leave the Order.

Regaining his planetary title had been only a small matter, as his family, country and world had welcomed him back with open arms. Now he had the power, money, influence and will to do something about this new threat, and he had vowed that he would indeed do what he could. His first goal would be to track the Sith down. Then he would either use his diplomatic or combative skills (probably both knowing his luck) to address the situation.

Today, like most days, he had uncovered almost nothing and had yet to hear from his current contacts, and had just begun to go over the information again (for the umpteenth time) when when he received the private call on his personal Comm link. That in and of itself was unusual. Those who knew the number shouldn't appear as 'private' on his Comm unit, and anyone who did have a private number shouldn't know the frequency. Frowning, he opened the comm's holographic screen, reading the message that came with the connection request. Then his eyes widened.

_I know who the Sith Lord is._

Well, wasn't that convenient.

Dooku didn't believe in coincidences. So, someone, somewhere had gotten wind of his little search. They would have to be extremely resourceful and either very brave, or very stupid to be digging through a Jedi Master's (former or not) private business uninvited. Probably a little of both. One didn't cross either royalty or a trained Force-sensitive lightly. Of course, this lucky break could easily be something that had been deliberately placed in his path by the Sith to either lead him directly into a trap, or mislead him completely. That last option sounded the most likely, but either way he would have to tread with caution.

A small smile formed on his face. This would be interesting.

Setting his data pad down, he reached over and flipped on the switch. "Count Dooku of Sorreno speaking." To his surprise, the face that appeared wasn't a face at all. It was a mask; a white, blank, curved surface under a hood and dark slots that didn't reveal any hint to the person's eyes at all. So, this supposed informant did not wish to reveal his identity. Also interesting.

"I have secured the signal on my end." The voice came across enhanced and distorted by some mechanical adjustment, but the sheer authority in those words surprised him. He could not tell much just by the shape or size of the head (he couldn't even see where the shoulders ended), and nothing else seemed to have the potential of giving anything about the person behind the fuzzy holographic image away. He appeared as a holographic bust, with no background or other definable features. This being had thought the encounter out well—professionally even. Could he be a bounty hunter, perhaps? Or a Sith himself? Dooku found himself impressed, if wary, and he stroked his beard thoughtfully, keeping his anticipation firmly in check. It only took him a few seconds to secure his own end of the call.

"With whom am I speaking?" he asked cautiously.

"You may call me Luke," the voice replied, the superiority still quite evident. So, this person was used to discussing subjects with powerful people and did not let himself be daunted by them. Possibly he dealt with such people on a somewhat regular basis? Or the being thought of himself as Dooku's equal, perhaps. He filed the information away for later.

Dooku nodded politely. "Very well, Luke. It seems you have some information I have been seeking."

"I do."

"I see. Who is this person I have been searching for?"

A slight hesitation. "What will you do with the information?"

Blunt, but a good question none the less. "I plan on turning such information over to the proper authorities."

"The 'proper authorities' being whom?"

The Count frowned slightly. "That would depend on this person's true identity. I plan on going to the Senate if necessary."

A thoughtful pause met his words. The former Jedi watched for a moment, looking at what little he could of the body language and analyzing the tone of voice that had still came across despite the enhancements. "What would the Senate be able to do about a Sith Master?"

Dooku's frown deepened. "They would have the authority to bring the Jedi in on such matters." And encourage the Jedi to actually _do_ something about it.

"Why not simply go to the Jedi?"

His frown vanished almost instantly, replaced with a minute smile. What an incredibly Jedi-like thing to say. Of course, that had been part of the reason why Dooku had left, the idea that Jedi (and thus by default, Sith) were above answering to anyone else, but still. Was this 'Luke' an old ally from the temple? He had to admit, he felt a great deal of relief at the idea of someone else in the Jedi Order realizing what he himself had been trying to say. It seemed he still had some friends besides Sifo-dyas in the Order. Unless this 'Luke' was indeed Sifo (although he doubted it). Whoever it was, they obviously valued their anonymity, not that Dooku blamed them. He made a mental list of Jedi Masters who might be inclined enough to agree with him to go behind the other Jedi's backs to help him.

"I have brought my concerns to the Jedi Council. I would need a good deal of proof before they would consider moving against anyone who may be the Sith Master. This proof they require is rather...difficult to come by. Truthfully, I am curious as to whether your own information is credible. How did you come by this knowledge?" He would also like to know how his anonymous friend had found this information when he hadn't been able to even catch a glimpse of it.

The pause from the figure was nothing if not pronounced and somewhat reluctant, Dooku noted curiously. "I know this, because I used to be his apprentice."

Any amusement he'd been displaying vanished immediately, replaced by shock and surprise. Surely this could not be an acquaintance of his! None of the Jedi he'd been considering had any inclination towards dark teachings. Besides, as far as he knew, the Sith only had one apprentice, and that apprentice had died on Naboo, killed by Obi-wan Kenobi, padawan to Qui-gon Jinn, Dooku's own former apprentice.

After several seconds, he managed to speak again, keeping his voice calm. "How is it that you live then?"

The figure shook its head. "Do you honestly believe the Sith Order lives solely by the rule of two? The only real rule they bother following is that Sith ensure their superiority through any means necessary." He paused, then muttered under his breath, "They are just as blind and corrupt as the Jedi."

Dooku couldn't help his surprise at the baited phrase. The Sith were _supposed_ to be corrupt. He'd always taken that as a given...just like every Jedi had. But from the way this mysterious Sith apprentice spoke...was he suggesting that the current Sith path itself had twisted from its original direction? As if the corruption had been corrupted. As if this being before him had been somehow drawn into becoming a Sith and then been disillusioned at how far that path had fallen from the ideal he'd expected. The very thought was...mind-boggling, to say the least.

And yet he seemed just as disenchanted by the Jedi teachings. The being obviously knew Dooku had been at odds with the Jedi Council. Dooku could tell simply from the way Luke had stated it—as if he'd not just expected an acquiescence but almost took for granted the fact that the Count would agree with him. And he did. The Jedi had indeed strayed from their original goal. The statement had been the being's way of affirming that they both shared at least a similar point of view in that regard—although this brought up the question of whether Luke had any familiarity with the Jedi beyond the biased teachings of his supposed former master. The problem was, he still had many people he cared for in the Jedi Order and the idea of anyone, even a half-trained Sith, anywhere near the Temple did not sit well with him. He made a show of stroking his beard thoughtfully again, some fears at least temporarily quelled while others flared up higher than ever.

Still, he had always believed that discretion was the better part of valor, so he chose to ignore the sentence for now. This was, after all, no time to become involved in a philosophical argument. "So you were being trained to replace the other apprentice? Or perhaps along side him?"

"Something to that effect."

Dooku frowned at the vague answer. "Or were you being trained by the one killed on Naboo?"

When the being spoke again, he could easily hear the barely concealed contempt behind their speech. "That..._being_ did not have the capacity to even begin to train an apprentice." And a touch of rage if Dooku could read the other's tone correctly. Not that he would expect differently from a Sith Apprentice.

"I did not mean to offend," Dooku said lightly. "It was a reasonable question."

"Indeed," the figure responded grudgingly. "Both the Sith on the planet and myself were trained by the same master."

"I see," The Count replied, leaning forward. "If I may be so bold, you have implied that you are no longer a Sith Apprentice. I was under the assumption that once chosen, one would have that...profession for life."

The being was silent for almost a full minute. "A...good friend never believed I'd fully turned, despite the evidence against such an opinion. He confronted me at the risk of his own life. It made me see the universe a little more clearly. Then I died."

"An excellent solution," Dooku nodded in approval of the being's answer to the problem. Falsifying one's death would obviously be risky, but a valid resolution none the less. Still, he had his doubts about the being's sincerity. "And what proof can you offer that you speak the truth?"

The figure paused for several moments, then seemed to throw all caution to the wind. "You are correct. I have no proof that I am not affiliated with Sidious."

Dooku raised an eyebrow. That name had been dropped purposefully, offered as proof that the being did at last know of the Sith. Clever. He could still easily be acting under orders, but one way or another, he knew something, and Dooku intended to find out what.

"Very well, I will take your words into consideration."

The being nodded slightly, acknowledging the statement. "You will not regret it. Now, before we arrange a meeting, I believe it is only fair that I know what your general goals in finding the Sith are."

The Count frowned. He'd already told Luke what he planned on doing with the information, but somehow he felt this question was deeper...more personal. Truthfully, though, Dooku had been trying to figure out his own stance on the Sith. Now, faced with the question, he had to ask himself exactly what his goals were. What if they didn't have the proof for the Senate or the Jedi? He believed this being, but somehow doubted that he would testify before the courts or the Jedi if he valued his anonymity that much, but his testimony would be vital in convincing those people in power to act. If he could not convince Luke to testify, he knew he wouldn't just let it go. The Council never acted, and that had been one of the larger reasons as to why he'd left the Order. It stood to reason that once he found his target, he would probably end up fighting or confronting him in some way. Was he ready for that? He didn't know, and truthfully the Count would rather avoid that. He had figured that he would decide on a course of action once he'd discovered the Sith's identity, perhaps even spoken with him, but now he realized that he would need a stronger plan before he acted.

Part of him thought that somehow tracing and bringing down the Sith would be helpful and useful to the Galaxy as a whole. In some small corner of his mind, though, he could not help but think that perhaps the Jedi were doomed to fall beneath the shadow of the Sith. It grew like a cancer, no matter how many times he pushed that thought away. It had taken root after being confronted by the corruption in the Order and even now it reached forth to whisper that perhaps he was fighting on the wrong side.

Contemplating these thoughts, he sat back in his chair as he took another look at the blank mask, wondering what exactly Luke knew. He'd already expressed his dislike for both the Sith and the Jedi, which put the two of them on similar ground, but Dooku knew so little about this person...he would have to tread cautiously.

"I had not yet decided on a course of action if I cannot find the proof to the Senate's or the Jedi's liking," he finally said, slowly.

The figure seemed to consider that. "You left the Jedi because you considered their teachings corrupt, did you not?" the figure asked quietly.

Dooku raised an eyebrow. He hadn't spoken of that to very many people either. The figure was indeed a conundrum. Apparently his silence and minute expression was all Luke needed. "I will admit that I too once had questions about the Jedi teachings, and I agree that they are corrupt to an extent."

"But..." the Count encouraged, curious as to where the discussion was going. The further the conversation continued, the more intrigued Dooku became.

"But have you considered that the Sith teachings are just as imperfect and twisted from their original course in their own way?"

Dooku felt his brow furrow, not so much from the thought (the idea still seemed so far-fetched and yet plausible to him), but more at the implications. He could never see himself actually changing his opinion to match the Sith ways, no matter what his previous contemplations had concluded. Was this being suggesting... And how could he know?

Regaining his composure, he decided to avoid said implications and ask his earlier question.l "Aren't Sith teachings supposed to be corrupt?"

The being considered that. "Not originally, no."

The former Jedi frowned outright. "Explain."

"I will do so and give you information about the Sith Lord you seek, but only with two conditions."

Dooku's frown deepened but he managed to hide most of the frustration he felt. Why couldn't they simply discuss this over the channel?

"Very well," he finally conceded. He didn't have any leverage to keep his contact talking otherwise.

"First, I will not explain anything more over a Comm transmission."

The Count frowned again. "The channel is secure."

The figure shook its head, the smallest movement but a great deal of meaning behind it. "I do not believe in a completely secure channel."

Dooku's frustration grew. "What do you propose then? A physical meeting?"

The contact nodded. "That would be acceptable."

The Count nodded. It was an understandable, if somewhat risky request. "I will meet you here, in my home in two weeks time."

The figure shook its head again. "I cannot."

"Surely you don't expect me to come to you?" This could still easily be a trap and both of them knew it.

"My current...occupation will not allow my absence." Stuck between a comet and an asteroid then. "I propose a compromise. There is a diner on Courscant." Dooku raised an eyebrow. So the being was likely on Courscant and force sensitive if he'd been trained as a Sith. How had the Jedi not noticed him? Could he hide his presence that well? Or had he somehow infiltrated the Jedi? He'd assumed that Luke was a Jedi-turned-Sith, but could it be the other way around? He'd never heard of such a thing... The being continued. "I will send you the coordinates. It is a public place, one you may be familiar with yourself."

The coordinates flashed across the screen and Dooku's eyes widened again. Didi's Cafe*? The one his padawan had been so fond of? A sudden uneasiness began to uncurl in his gut. Just how much information about him had Luke gathered? This being seemed to know and understand the reasons why Dooku had left the Jedi Order and knew several personal details, but only to a certain extent. It wasn't consistent, almost as if he'd only known or heard everything about one particular portion of Dooku's history and jumped to conclusions. Admittedly they were mostly correct conclusions, but still...

"Meet me there in two weeks time," Luke continued. "And come alone. You may specify the time, but send it directly, do not speak it." Dooku nodded, eying the figure again. He seemed terribly paranoid. Not that the Count would expect differently from a former Sith apprentice. After considering his options, he sent his specified hour and received a confirmation from the other.

"And the other condition?"

"Do not speak with anyone on or from Courscant until you come, and when you come speak only to me. Also, do not accept any Comm signal you are not familiar with. I am not the only one who knows of your search."

"What would you have me tell anyone who calls me?" Dooku asked slowly. Sypho Dias still spoke to him on a regular basis, as did many of his former acquaintances from the Senate. Besides, if he received another unknown number, then it could very well be someone more (or less, as the case may be) informative and/or trustworthy than whomever Luke wanted him to avoid.

"Have someone tell them you are unreachable; a personal journey to reassess your current beliefs or something along those lines. It would be reasonable considering your recent...change of occupation. If that is not acceptable, I am sure you can excuse yourself as the situation dictates." The figure paused. "I will know if you contact anyone here. If you do, this will be our last conversation."

It only took the Count a few seconds to come to a conclusion. "Very well, I accept your terms, and I look forward to meeting you in person, Luke," Dooku said.

"Indeed, Count," the figure replied and disappeared, ending the conversation. Dooku stared at the place where the figure had been for several seconds. Just who was this 'Luke', and what exactly did he want?

The coming conversation promised to be most informative, and 'interesting' didn't begin to cover it.

xXx

Anakin slipped out of the end of the maintenance tunnel that he usually used to escape. Normally utilized by droids, such tunnels weren't commonly protected by more than a few cameras and a force field, both of which were easily manipulated from the inside of the temple. It was getting back inside that usually caused a problem, but a quick reprogramming of a few of the maintenance droids took care of that issue as well. They would let only him in, and no one would be the wiser. It had been one of his favorite escape routes as a padawan until he'd outgrown the tunnel sizes. As a ten-year-old, he had absolutely no problem whatsoever.

Checking to make sure that the security measures were back in place, Anakin gave a satisfied nod and began to walk down the hallway, glancing at the time as he went. His free two hours would be over soon, and he was due for lightsaber practice. He had no serious problem missing most of his other classes as they were simply rehashing his current education, but he absolutely refused to even consider missing lightsaber practice. He needed it too badly. Besides, learning the basics from someone other than Obi-wan was giving him a rather fresh view on the skill. Obi-wan would always insist that Anakin go back to the basics, but this was the first time he'd actually appreciated doing so.

He'd also begun to practice and study with some of his peers. After all, the extra practice couldn't hurt either him or them, even if they were woefully easy to predict. Actually, he'd been more than a little surprised when they'd come up and asked if he wanted to join them. He couldn't remember if that had happened before or not. If it had, he'd rejected them. Perhaps the seclusion hadn't entirely been his classmates' fault?

The group consisted of five other initiates. The two he'd practically interrogated about Dooku just after arriving at the temple were among them. Hik'te, the blue-skinned boy from before, belonged to a race called 'Kark'oildee' that occupied a planet in the outer mid-rim area. An unusual chemical phenomenon turned most of the plants on the planet to various shades of blue and his species had adapted to blend in. Maelee, the dark-haired human who'd been discussing Dooku at the table as well, didn't even know where she came from and didn't care.

Coira, the other female in the group, was a human from Courscant who liked to keep her hair short and planned on dying it several different colors when she became a padawan, although her natural hue was a dull blond.

The oldest boy in the group, a Bothan with light-tan fur named Thoran, seemed to be an information gatherer (no surprise there), and the final boy, Hale, was a large, quiet human who hadn't disclosed his background to Anakin yet.

All in all, it was a motley crew of children who wouldn't have even looked at each other if they hadn't been raised in the temple. Still, their different strengths seemed to make up for the various weaknesses for the most part, and being Jedi, they learned quickly—well, compared to clones and normal soldiers in any case.

Anakin wasn't sure what he found more frustrating; having to work with the children to begin with, or being reduced to their physical level. Still, it was his first step to gaining allies; allies that he would undoubtedly need in the future.

He turned down the hall leading to the lightsaber practice room. He'd be a good 40 minutes early, but would welcome the extra warm-up time.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, then a twinge resonated through the Force. A very familiar twinge. Anakin stopped and concentrated on it for just a moment before his eyes widened ever so slightly.

It was Obi-wan. He'd just come back to Courscant and was landing at the Temple...and he was hurt. Badly. For several minutes, Anakin stood there in the hall, completely oblivious to his surroundings and anyone who happened to pass by. He couldn't stop the debate raging in his head. Part of him wanted to rush to the medical wing like he had every time Obi-wan had come back hurt in their previous life. The other half of him wanted to ignore Obi-wan even existed. He'd been avoiding the knight since their return. While they hadn't parted on bad terms (quite the opposite actually), it became uncomfortable for Anakin to be around him for extended periods of time. This Obi-wan was just so...different from his old master. Younger, even more idealistic (if that were possible), just a tad more reckless, and an eeopie load of other, tiny things that just tended to scream out to Anakin. It all reminded him rather blatantly that this was not his master, and yet there were so many things that _were_ his Obi-wan that it was difficult to separate the two.

It was a confusing and sometimes painful conundrum.

And on top of all of that, he still hadn't gotten over the habit of thinking of ways to kill that particular Jedi. Not that he would ever use anything he came up with anymore, but that had been one of Vader's favorite pass times. It was an uncomfortable habit that Anakin was working on eradicating.

Still, didn't he owe Obi-wan at least that much? Just drop by and say 'hi, hope you're not hurt too badly.' Who else would, after all? Obi-wan had a good many friends in the future, but how many did he have now? Anakin couldn't remember.

Finally his concern for his former master won out. With a sigh and a longing look back at the practice room, he turned and began to hastily walk to the medic's wing.

xXx

"I swear..." Obi-wan winced as yet another strip of his make-shift bandage got torn off. "You are the most reckless," yank, "pathetic," tear, "accident prone," tug, "excuse for a Jedi this temple has ever seen!"

Obi-wan bit his lip as the rest of the bandage completely (and rather painfully) separated from his skin. Then he schooled his expression and looked up at the irritated Mon Calamari who now held a bacta patch that she would be using to scrub the rest of the dried blood away. He wanted to back away, but he knew the look on Bant's face. Better to just get it over with. She must have had a bad day.

"It's just a scratch," he muttered, mostly to himself, half hoping she didn't hear him.

He wasn't that lucky. "Just a scratch?" she literally screeched at him. "You almost lost your _arm_ Obi-wan! Just in case you didn't notice that piece of...whatever the Force it was went _through_ you! It didn't just cut, it _skewered!"_ She'd already begun to clean and with every word, she scrubbed at the wound just hard enough to be painful, but soft enough to not seriously aggravate it more.

"I know, I was there," Obi-wan said with a hiss.

"Your body was," Bant returned. "I have no idea where your mind was!"

Obi-wan sighed, debating whether he should retort or not. He had indeed been thinking at the time, and that the ambassador he'd been protecting would have been killed if Obi-wan hadn't knocked him out of the way of the falling rubble. Now he'd _tried_ to get out of the way too, but his arm had been caught by some of it. Things like that tended to happen on high-profile missions. He'd stuffed it full of bacta, wrapped it up with strips from his robe, and that had been that. He'd even finished the assignment. He didn't know why Bant was so upset when it could have been so much worse, and was about to say so when they heard someone clear their throat at the door.

Looking up, they saw a human padawan standing just outside the room; a healer's padawan judging from his attire.

Yes?" Bant asked, her voice holding just the slightest edge to it.

The boy swallowed, but when he spoke, he did so firmly and without a trace of fear. Obi-wan would have been impressed if he hadn't been in pain. Bant hadn't stopped cleaning the wound to talk (she never did), and Obi-wan knew from experience that she wouldn't even consider ending his torture until she was satisfied. He wasn't sure if that would be when she figured she had put Obi-wan through enough pain to learn his lesson, or when the wound was actually clean. He also wasn't about to ask. Best not to give her ideas.

"An initiate came in, asking after Knight Kenobi," he said.

Obi-wan blinked and looked up, surprised. He only really knew one initiate…

"And?" Bant asked.

The boy looked a little unsure. "He wishes to see him."

"He can wait," Bant started, but Obi-wan nodded his head at the Padawan, belying his friend's words.

"Show him in."

"Obi-wan," Bant hissed. "You want to show a child this?" She gestured to his fairly mutilated arm.

Obi-wan looked down. "He's seen worse." Anakin hadn't said so himself, but Obi-wan had little doubt that his words were true.

"I don't care," she retorted. "It isn't appropriate."

"He wouldn't be here if he didn't need to see for himself that I'll be alright." Truthfully, Obi-wan didn't know how he knew that. He suspected it had something to do with the Force and his strange connection to Anakin.

Bant didn't say anything, but the strawberry-blond knew she wasn't happy. Still, she'd relented, and that was all he really could ask for at the moment.

"Anakin Skywalker, Knight, Healer," the padawan said as he came back in, bowing respectfully. Behind him stood Anakin, stalwart as ever. He simply looked up at Obi-wan, watching with an expressionless face as the padawan left the room.

Almost instantly, Bant changed her demeanor completely. "Anakin? Welcome to the medical ward. My name is Bant." She stuck her webbed hand out, bending down so she was more on his level. Obi-wan didn't know who he should be embarrassed for. Here he was, practically helpless on a table while his friend decided to 'care' for him, but said friend was treating a former Dark Side trained initiate like…well, a child. Of course said child would be more than a little uncomfortable at the entire situation, although he hid it well.

The knight watched with interest as Anakin took the offered, comparatively strange hand without so much as a flinch. Apparently Bant was pleasantly surprised herself. Mon Calamari tended to be a little intimidating at a first meeting.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Healer Bant," he said respectfully. Obi-wan raised an eyebrow at the barely perceptible pause before 'meet'. Did he know Bant from somewhere? She wasn't exactly high-profile, although she had been on her share of missions with her respective masters.

"And you as well," she said, standing up. "Do you mind if I call you Anakin, or would you prefer Initiate Skywalker?"

If he'd been uncomfortable before, he looked practically panicked now, but again, he hid it well. Obi-wan wouldn't have known if it hadn't been for that barely perceptible connection that gave him just a hint of the boy's feelings.

"Whichever you like," he replied carefully. She regarded him for a moment, and must have somehow sensed his unease.

"Initiate Skywalker it is," she said with a smile, blinking her overly large eyes. "But I want you to know that one of these days I want you to know you well enough to call you 'Anakin'."

He nodded, but didn't say anything. Was that a touch of guilt he was feeling? Obi-wan couldn't quite tell. Besides, why would the boy feel guilty about that?

"Meanwhile," Bant continued, "I'm assuming you're here for this clumsy nerf."

Anakin hid a smile as Bant walked back to where Obi-wan sat, bacta swab still in hand. She'd cleaned the wound, Obi-wan knew she had, but she still went back to scrubbing it. He bit back a sigh and a wince at the same time.

"You're hurt," Anakin stated.

Obi-wan forced a smile. "Obviously."

Anakin scowled. "Apparently you are fine," he said after shooting Obi-wan a dark look. Then he turned on his heel.

Both Obi-wan and Bant blinked at his back.

"Anakin," Obi-wan said. He didn't have to have a connection to feel the boy's annoyance, but he also felt just a touch of something else he couldn't quite place, and he didn't want him to leave it like that.

At the door, Anakin stopped and turned to face him.

"Thank you for coming. I will be fine, but I appreciate your concern." Nothing on his face really changed, but he did seem just a little more relaxed, and Obi-wan didn't feel the disappointment anymore. Not that that meant anything, but still.

"You are welcome, M—" he cut off suddenly, eyes widening. Then, the disappointment and annoyance was back, but this time directed towards himself. "Knight Kenobi," he muttered, and then he was gone, taking long, steady steps with his hands firmly behind his back.

"What was that?" Bant asked.

Obi-wan shook his head. "I'm not sure," he replied. "He was a slave. Apparently he's still used to calling authority figures 'master'."

Bant didn't say anything, but by the way she set her jaw, Obi-wan could tell that even the mention of the boy's past pushed her toward anger. A thankfully well-controlled anger. If Obi-wan knew anyone he didn't want to turn Dark Side, it was Bant. The very thought sent shivers up and down his spine. Fortunately, he was also more than sure that she was in no danger, despite her frustration.

"You're staying in here for the rest of the night," she informed him, turning her attention back to her patient, who held in a groan. "And don't even try to get out of it."

"Yes ma'am," he murmured.

"Don't you use that tone of voice with me," she growled, taking out some rather nasty looking tools. "I'm going to try and undo some damage, but it's more than likely that you'll have a scar, and I want to watch it overnight."

Obi-wan looked down. "You don't have to worry about me, Bant," he said softly. She stopped what she was doing and looked back at him.

"If I don't, who will?" she asked, her voice equally as soft.

"That's the point of becoming a knight," he replied, unable to look at her. Then he took a deep breath. "Qui-gon's gone. I've come to terms with that."

Even though he couldn't see her, he could still tell she'd shook her head. "That's not something you ever come to terms with." Obi-wan didn't say anything. If anyone knew, she did. "Besides, I'd do this whether you had a master or not. Or have you forgotten?"

"It's far too painful to forget," he retorted, smiling. She hit his good arm and got a complaint for her trouble. Still, he felt his heart had eased just a little.

xXx

Well, that had been completely and utterly useless. Anakin shook his head as he headed towards the healer's wing exit. At least it hadn't taken as long as he'd expected. He still had fifteen minutes to get to class. Maybe he could even begin that warm up he'd wanted before.

He'd just reached the entrance to the medical wing when it hit him. It felt as if the Force had suddenly doused him in an icy ocean. Stopping, he gasped, clutching his chest. It almost felt like he couldn't breathe. This was how he'd felt before when he'd needed a respirator...

It was a bond, he realized. One he hadn't known was there this time, and he almost kicked himself. He should have known. If he still had one with Obi-wan, then this one would be there too.

A passing medic had come over to him, asking something Anakin couldn't make out rather frantically. He couldn't answer as he was too focused on breathing at the moment. Something horrible had begun; something that would cause someone a slow, agonizing death.

Torture. Sith Torture.

Still gasping, he could only utter one word as he fought the blackness creeping around the edge of his vision. "Sidious."

xXx

Darth Sidious closed the door with a quiet ease that belied the large object's weight before turning to the only occupant in the room. She didn't seem to realize that he was there, but he didn't mind. That wouldn't be a problem for him. Quite the contrary, actually. He allowed an anticipatory smile onto his features. It would be most pleasant to hear her mentally screaming in agony, unable to do so aloud. Right now, she would not utter a sound. He would ensure that she would be physically unable to do so later.

Unfortunately for her, he wasn't in a good mood. It had taken him far too long to arrange to be on his home planet so he could personally interrogate her so soon after his previous visit. He'd had to have the perfect alibi after all. Still, the wait had been worth while. Now he could gain the information he needed and no one would be the wiser.

Stepping forward, the only sound she could utter was a soft gasp before her mental screams began to siphon to him, and he reveled in them.

With a smile, he began to tear through her head and memories. He'd forgotten just how blissful inflicting torture could be.

It only took minutes. He didn't have time to draw it out more than that, but he got what he could and then exited, leaving the former assassin on the floor, still screaming silently. It would take her hours to finally stop breathing, but her death was assured, and she still would not be able to be anything other than absolutely silent.

He left in a far better mood than when he'd arrived, and had a mental picture of this new Sith. He also had a name.

Perhaps this wouldn't be so difficult after all.

xXx

AN: This is why it took me 2-3 years to write. Yes. This chapter. It would not have gotten done without BATFAN7. Please, PLEASE give her props!

*Note: Didi was the owner of a cafe that Qui-gon and Obi-wan would visit. Didi and Astri (Brother and sister, or cousins I believe) didn't have the shiniest past and tended to have connections. They used those connections to help the Jedi once (Anakin and Obi-wan of course), and then Astri married a man from the outer rim and both she and Didi moved out there, probably to get away and hide from the people who would be upset that they'd smuggled Jedi into a slave and spice ring (although it doesn't say in the books I read, just hints at it). Didi sold this diner to Dexter, someone with just as little repute as himself. Hence we get 'Dex's Diner' in AotC.


	3. Chapter 3

He'd missed his lightsaber practice. Anakin scowled at the wall opposite of the bed the healer from the hall had placed him in. Why did such a trivial thing bother him so much? Someone had just been tortured and if they hadn't died already, they would be dead shortly. He knew that should bother him far more than missing his lightsaber practice, but it didn't. That fact _did._

Perhaps some habits were never unlearned. He found the revelation about himself to be quite disturbing.

At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to be away from the hospital wing and his unnerving thoughts. He hated just sitting around when he could be doing something productive. They'd examined him and pronounced him to be physically sound. So why couldn't they just let him leave? He'd asked (demanded) and been told that they had to wait for test results as a general policy before they could release him. He'd forgotten about that particularly hated policy.

Sighing, he went back to staring at the wall. He may not be in the same room as his former master, but he found it ironic that they would end up in healer's wing at the same time, albeit for completely different reasons.

He tried to relax himself, but found the techniques he used to be only marginally effective. Then his eyes turned to the door as the healer from earlier, one Knight Tokpoffi, finally came walking back into the room. He smiled warmly at Anakin.

"Well, it seems all of the tests have come back, and you're in perfect health."

Anakin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he was in perfect health.

The man frowned thoughtfully. "We don't know why you had an attack like that, but we'll definitely keep an eye on it."

"Thank you," Anakin said as politely as he could. "May I go now?"

"Of course," the knight said. "But please come back if it happens again."

"Yes, sir," Anakin replied, trying not to rip the sheets off of him as he climbed out of bed.

"Have a good day," Knight Tokpoffi called after him as he walked briskly down the hall, keeping a lookout for Obi-wan. There was a real possibility they could run into each other here after all, and Anakin had had enough for now. It wasn't that he disliked being around Obi-wan, he just...didn't know how to act around him anymore. Anakin shouldn't (couldn't) treat him like his master, nor did he want to treat him as an enemy, but there was too much between them, even if only from Anakin's side, to interact with him as an acquaintance. He honestly didn't know what to do and so thus wanted to simply avoid—

A twinge in the Force had him stopping and backing up almost without him realizing. Someone familiar occupied a room he'd just passed. Peeking in, he realized he couldn't see them from the door because the bed was situated so that a passer by couldn't just look in and glimpse anything more than that this room was occupied. So he walked in carefully, eying the bed as it came into view.

Then his breath caught in his throat. On the twin-sized mattress lay a woman with blond hair spread around her like a halo. She had various contraptions locked onto her mouth and nose, but that didn't stop Anakin from recognizing her immediately.

"Siri Tachi," he whispered.

xXx

Obi-wan cared deeply for Bant. She had always been the closest thing he'd had to a sister and she'd gotten him out of (and into) more than one scrape. That did not in any way change how he felt about the healer's wing. Knight or not, he wanted out. Now.

Unfortunately he'd come to the conclusion once he'd become a senior padawan that he could no longer give into such childish impulses. Now that he was a knight, that wasn't about to change. If anything, he felt he had to be even more strict with himself.

The biggest problem was knowing that Qui-gon wasn't going to walk in that door at any minute to scold him for being reckless and tell him that he'd gotten what he deserved. Just after Bant had left him alone to tend to her other duties it hadn't been so hard, but as the minutes wore on, the room began to feel even more claustrophobic than usual.

Finally, after two standard hours, being unable to sleep or even meditate, he'd had enough. He'd promised to stay in the healer's wing overnight. Surely that didn't mean he had to stay in his room. A short, calming walk wouldn't hurt him or anyone else.

Besides, this happened to be the first time he'd really had enough time between assignments to do much more than prepare for upcoming missions. He'd actually been rather lucky. Despite the difficult assignments that normally came with knighthood, he hadn't been admitted to the healers wing before. He felt that fact attested more to Qui-gon's training than it did to his own personal skill.

Truthfully there was someone he'd been meaning to visit. Now he actually had the time and happened to be in the same area, albeit with less than desirable circumstances than he would have preferred, but still... Surely Bant wouldn't be too upset with him if he went for a visit now.

Still, sneaking around the healers would probably be prudent. The less she knew, the less she could get angry about, after all.

He would never admit out loud that Bant sometimes scared him more than Master Windu did.

Which is how he found himself suppressing his force presence as he sneaked around the different healers and other Jedi that had come to the wing. He actually found that he rather enjoyed the self-given mission, ignoring the immaturity of it altogether. Of course, he would have an interesting time explaining himself if he were caught by...well, anyone, but he found that that didn't bother him in the slightest.

He was rather proud of himself for finding her room without being seen once. That all vanished in surprise when he walked into her room only to see a small figure watching her with what looked like utter shock.

Curious. Why should Anakin, who couldn't have possibly met Siri before, be surprised to see a random person in the healer's wing?

"Anakin?" he asked softly. The boy jumped and whirled around as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Master," he said out of reflex. Obi-wan frowned. Almost immediately, the former slave caught himself. "I mean Obi-wan," he amended, looking as if he were mentally kicking himself. "I mean, Knight Kenobi."

The red-head smiled. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it in time; being your own master." Anakin snorted and looked away, causing Obi-wan to frown again. "I know it may not seem like it now, but time heals all wounds."

"I don't think I can agree with that," the boy muttered bitterly.

Somehow, Obi-wan knew he wouldn't be able to change the boy's mind, and decided against protesting. Some things one had to find out for themselves. They stood there in an awkward silence for several seconds before the knight cleared his throat.

"So, may I ask why you're in here? If I didn't know any better I'd say you'd just seen a ghost." It was a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood. As such, it had the opposite effect.

"She just...looks like someone I knew," the boy answered quietly. Immediately Obi-wan could tell Anakin was keeping something back.

"Oh? Who?" he asked cautiously.

The blond boy glanced back at Siri uncomfortably. "Someone my former master used to know."

Ah, that explained a lot. "I see," Obi-wan said quietly. "Someone you had a difficult time with?"

Anakin bit his lip. "Something like that."

The knight brought a hand up to his chin thoughtfully. It wasn't something that they normally had to deal with, but he wondered if he should get Anakin to see a mind healer about abuse. It may not be his place, he wasn't the boy's master after all, but he would suggest it to Master Yoda the next time their paths crossed. Perhaps it was even more necessary to get him into a mind healer _because_ he didn't have a master yet.

He filed the thought away for later.

"Well," he spoke up as he walked over to take a seat, gesturing for Anakin to do so as well. The boy looked uncomfortable, but sat down anyway after a slight pause. "Let me introduce you."

"She's in a coma."

Obi-wan raised an eyebrow, eyes sparkling. "Yes, I can see."

The dry expression Anakin shot him almost made his stoic facade crack into a hearty laugh. Almost. Instead, he simply grinned. The boy seemed to realize he was being teased and scowled, which only made Obi-wan want to laugh harder.

"This is Siri Tachi, an old friend of mine," he said to Anakin. Then he turned to the prone figure on the bed, smile dimming slightly. It hurt to see her like this. She should be running and laughing and teasing and being a general pain in the backside, not lying so deathly still. "Siri, this is a new initiate. His name is Anakin Skywalker."

"She can't hear you," Anakin muttered.

Obi-wan wanted to sigh. "I sincerely hope you're wrong, Anakin."

They fell into a lapse of words that was thankfully far more comfortable than the previous silence. That didn't mean it wasn't somewhat tense, although Obi-wan couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

"Why is she here?" Anakin asked finally, breaking the silence.

The knight shook his head. "We don't know."

Anakin frowned. "Do you even know what happened?"

Obi-wan shook his head. "Only that she collapsed about a standard week before Qui-gon and I..." he paused for a moment, but then set his jaw and plowed on. "Before Qui-gon and I left on the mission where we found you."

xXx

It took a few seconds for Anakin to really process Obi-wan's words and make all the connections, but when he did, the former slave sincerely hoped he didn't look like he'd blanched too much because he had certainly felt the blood drain from his face. He'd come back in time to about that point, unknowingly bringing the spirit of his Siri Tachi with him. That couldn't be a coincidence. He'd have to try and talk to the Siri from his original time line as soon as possible...not that he was looking forward to doing so. At one point, he and Siri had been fairly good friends, and he held far fewer negative feelings towards her than most of the other Jedi he'd come across in this time period because she'd died before he had turned.

Now it felt as if they'd never gotten along. He felt he should be used to it as he hadn't really mixed well with most Jedi, but having Siri so openly hostile towards him hurt, a lot more than he thought it should. She'd been one of the few Jedi he'd been able to more or less tolerate—count as a friend, even. He really needed to fix that. He'd have to at least try to remedy his general mindset that seemed make him want to distance himself from his fellow order members, although he wasn't sure how effective his efforts would be. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he could ever truly 'get along' with anyone who wasn't Padme...and maybe Obi-wan (on a good day). Sith weren't exactly encouraged to work on their social skills, so what few abilities he'd acquired before he'd fallen were rusty at best, non-existent at worst.

To make matters worse, he only had his teachers and fellow initiates to interact with in an attempt to regain those skills, and he doubted treating other knights and masters like fellow children would end well. He also didn't think his pride could handle treating everyone else as he should a teacher.

"And she's been like this ever since?" Anakin asked, ignoring the shakiness in his voice.

Obi-wan sighed and sat back in his chair, smile completely gone. "Yes."

"It must be hard," Anakin said slowly, "seeing a friend like this."

The knight glanced over at the initiate, but Anakin couldn't read the expression in those blue-gray irises. "It is."

The way Obi-wan said it reminded the former Sith of his previous discussion with Siri in his dream state. Did they have feelings for each other now, or had that come later? Or had they always been there? With as wistful as Obi-wan sounded, Anakin found he could certainly see the latter, but he couldn't quite believe it. The idea of his former master having such feelings towards another Jedi still seemed like a foreign concept to him.

"Um...I need to get back to my classes," Anakin said awkwardly, suddenly wanting to leave the two alone.

Obi-wan blinked and glanced over at him. "Oh, of course. I didn't mean to keep you."

"It's fine," the boy replied, climbing down off of his chair.

"Oh, and Anakin..." The initiate stopped and turned to glance at his former mentor. "I wanted to thank you again for coming to see me today. You didn't have to and I do appreciate it."

Anakin nodded, feeling a small smile come to his lips. Then he turned and strode quickly out of the room, and then out of the wing as he forced his mind to turn to his physical inadequacies and exactly what he had to do to regain the skills his trip back in time had cost him.

xXx

Anakin hated being bored. He always had.

Unfortunately, listening to a condescending Jedi teacher lecture about history for the second time most definitely qualified as boring. Several times over. As Vader, he'd been required to attend board meetings, political parties, general social events, and Senate meetings that he may possibly be able to classify as more tedious, but most of those had either been somewhat relevant with previously unknown information being brought to the table or week-long celebrations that would fulfill his 'attendee requirements' (given to him by the Emperor—he insisted on keeping up public appearances) for the year. The idea of having to go through such a tedious block of time—such as a class he'd already passed—every single day for an entire year almost made Anakin wish for the social parties again. Almost.

So as he sat in his desk, staring blankly up at the Jedi lecturing at the head of the class, allowing his mind to wander as he leaned his chin on the palm of his hand. After all, he really did know all of this and so he'd decided that he should focus on more upcoming and important events. He was, after all, far more concerned with the future than that past.

He found his thoughts wandering to his upcoming meeting with Dooku and frowned. He'd planned that encounter for months, knowing full well that he would end up having to meet the man in person. That had presented a rather large flaw in his whole scheme: He couldn't afford to reveal himself to the man yet. Although Anakin doubted it, Dooku could easily have already contacted Sidious and made the alliance that would eventually drive the Count to turn. If that were the case, then Anakin would be lucky to get out alive. But more concerning to him was the problem that if he arrived at the meeting as a short being with a mask, it would be all too easy to put two and two together. He could just imagine both old men tweaking some aspect of their scheme for the hundredth time over some Woviain Tea (said to be one of the most expensive teas in the universe) as the subject came up. "Oh, and who was the small child who has just arrived at the Temple? Oh, yes, didn't he have previous Dark Side training?"

Thankfully he'd been able to play down said 'dark side training' to the council and consequently the rest of the Jedi. He wouldn't be surprised if Yoda suspected that his 'brief training period' was more than what Anakin had let on, but he doubted any other Jedi would suspect such from a 9-year-old. It was ironically amusing that they had a full-blown Sith in their midst and they didn't even suspect—more ironic than Palpatine's deception, even. Still, Sidious was intelligent and, especially at this point in time, he tended to think out of the box and could guess quite accurately at the smallest of details only to use those correct assumptions to further his own plans. It wouldn't be that much of a stretch for the two men to realize exactly who he was. Not only would that put him in danger, but it would potentially put the Temple (not to mention the _entire future_) in danger also.

Well, more danger.

As much as he may despise the Jedi method of teaching and living, he would prefer to keep them alive this time around. Well, he would prefer to at least not be the cause of their demise. Even as Vader the faces of those children had haunted him...

Funny how quickly guilt can be turned into anger.

Focusing back on the task at hand, he thought about his solution. He'd bought electrical equipment to make himself mechanical legs and arms that he'd be able to control with his movements. The very idea was not a comfortable one, but was the only solution he could come up with. If he sent a droid, that would not only offend Dooku, but instantly make him suspicious. They both knew Anakin had steered the conversation towards their meeting, so why would he suggest something and then not follow through?

He couldn't go as himself. True, there were many small races throughout the galaxy, but it would still be too easy to guess his identity—even through a disguise—at his normal height. So a disguise that discouraged both Sidious and Dooku from associating Anakin Skywalker with the former 'Sith Apprentice' was the solution. Hence the mechanical arm and leg extensions. Admittedly the proportion of the joints would be off, but that wasn't something he could easily fix. His torso would also be too small to completely pass himself off as a human adult, so he'd come up with a list of other races that had similar proportions and had fashioned several different pairs of hands for the ends of the mechanical limbs. It was all a matter of which he wanted to choose. The problem he ran into here was that all races had their pros and cons, and he'd been studying up on the different social and physical tics of each race to try and decide.

Then there was the hardware problem. With Anakin's knowledge it wasn't that difficult to build the mechanical limbs, and with enough time he could make any of them indistinguishable from real-life, but in truth, he didn't have that time. Even with his skill he knew someone as experienced as Dooku could potentially identify the limbs as unnatural, so he needed to prepare for that potential discussion topic. Additionally, many of the major components were...difficult to acquire and it would be awkward if his mechanical limbs were discovered by the Jedi as that could also lead to the Council discovering his frequent escapades from the Temple. He would have to find another place to store them once he finished the project. He'd already almost completed them, but his construction and practice with the artificial limbs (he had to look somewhat natural in them to pull this off after all) had begun to cut into his racing time, and he needed those profits to continue building them. Catch 22.

"Anakin!" A harsh hiss drew him out of his thoughts, and he glanced over to the seat next to him. Coira nodded towards the front of the class, where the teacher had stopped talking only to stare directly at him.

"I apologize," he said, not bothering to keep the boredom from his voice. "Could you repeat the question?"

"Initiate Skywalker, it would be appreciated if you could listen to the lesson."

Anakin blinked at the instructor. "I do know it rather well already, but I apologize for letting my mind wander. Could you please repeat the question?"

The instructor frowned. "I asked what events lead up to the creation of the Republic."

Anakin nodded and proceeded to launch into a five-minute lecture about the events leading up to the formation of the current Republic. He did his best to stick to facts that would be in the Jedi readings as the Empire and the Sith both had their own version of the events.

When he finished, the instructor regarded him with a thoughtful expression. "Initiate Skywalker, if you know this already, why have you not informed us before? I will speak to the Council about moving you to a different class. Would that be acceptable?"

Anakin blinked again, this time out of surprise. "I appreciate the thought, Master."

The teacher (and Anakin could not for the life of him remember the man's name) smiled and nodded in satisfaction before continuing with his lesson, leaving Anakin to collect himself. He'd never had such an offer presented to him before, no matter how advanced he'd been in the subjects. Why now?

Although he dwelt on the question for the rest of the class period, he could not seem to come up with an adequate answer.

xXx

_Later that night..._

Anakin had learned the art of meditation as a Jedi, but had only come to appreciate it as a Sith. The irony was not lost on him. Sith had their own form of meditation but the basic fundamentals couldn't be more different than the Jedi.

The Jedi believe in a sort of apathetic peace while the Sith believe in burning, negative passion. Jedi meditation tended to deal with clearing your mind and asking for a connection with the Force. Sith meditation could never be instigated without some sort of focal point, usually an extremely strong emotion such as pain, anger or hatred that demanded a connection. One would focus on that emotion and then try to link other emotions to it. The goal was to encompass all of your being into that focal point emotion so as to have an endless connection with the Dark Side. The best Sith could focus on any given emotion and attain that connection. Anakin, as Vader, had only ever achieved such a connection through anger, fear or pain.

Truthfully, looking back, he was a little surprised he'd been able to attain it at all as his lack of focus tended to be a rather prominent part of his personality. The problem he'd run into, though, was the fact that he'd had to sit for hours on end while being fed and having waste extracted from his body. He'd had little else to do, and meditation was better than sitting around doing nothing. The circumstance had quite literally forced him to learn (in a twisted, dark way) what Obi-wan had been trying to teach him for years: Meditation is a valuable tool.

Now as he sat in his room and tried to clear his mind, he couldn't help the frustration building inside of him. For years he'd hated the Jedi technique, and the Sith method he'd honed for decades. Even though he refused to even attempt to meditate in any fashion close to the Sith techniques, he kept finding his mind drifting, wanting to grab hold of an emotion.

Now he could banish feelings to the Force, a basic skill every single youngling was taught with typical Jedi devotion. Unfortunately, that was also the most fundamental form of light meditation. To go deeper than that, one had to truly clear their mind. Often this was done _by_ banishing feelings to the Force.

He kept trying to do so now, but some part of him did not seem to want to let go, and as such, he could not truly gain a meditative state. Currently, at best he could attain a light trance, and that had been nothing short of rare and difficult at best these last few months. His 'Force Techniques' class was the only one he was still behind in (ironically, even more so than when he had taken that class before). Between his frustration and the somewhat unsettling conversation he'd had with his former master about Padawan Tachi (it was strange to think of her as anything but a Knight), anything more at the moment just wasn't possible, but he needed to talk to his Siri and had no idea how to contact her except through meditation. In all actuality, he was hoping that just trying to get into the right mind set would at least call her to his dreams again, but neither his conscious or his subconscious mind wanted to cooperate.

Finally, after far too much effort and wasted time, he shoved all of his frustration as best he could into the Force and crawled into bed. He couldn't help but feel glad that tonight was his night to stay in the Temple because it surprised him as to how tired he was. Thankfully, it did not take him long to fall asleep. However, he did not dream that night.

xXx

_A few days later..._

Anakin paced restlessly outside of Master Yoda's meditation room wondering why he'd been summoned. Had they discovered his extra curricular activities? His bank accounts or night time trips to the lower sectors? He doubted it. They would have summoned him more formally in that particular case, he felt sure. He could only really race twice a week or so. One night a week he would sneak out and work on the mechanical limbs which he would need to interact with Dooku. He'd gone for simple designs and had come up with several successful products, but as they didn't actually connect to his nerves, he found them far more difficult to use than he felt someone who had lived with mechanical limbs for years should.

Usually he would spend once a week visiting the dumps and lover-level scrap heaps or shops to find parts and tools he needed for said arms or the droids he liked to build. The remaining nights, he actually slept. If he wanted to get his body into shape as quickly as he could, he needed his sleep and so he made sure to have several hours of rest a night, even on his racing, building, practicing and scavenging nights.

He was keeping up with (actually exceeding, even with him trying to hold back) mostof his classes and he knew he'd begun to get much better with his lightsaber skills, although that was no particular surprise. In his first life he'd picked up on that one particularly fast (not as quickly as Luke had, he thought back with a combination of jealousy and pride). That had been before he'd had the knowledge of the necessary basics and his favored forms. Really at this point, it was a matter of muscle memory, and that was something he worked on when he was sure no one else was around. In class, he had to stick to the forms he'd been taught at the temple, but he could usually sneak in a few hours of solitary lightsaber training in one of the practice rooms that he knew wasn't being monitored or recorded. He just didn't dare let on as to how much he really knew.

That was another thing that bothered him, though. He was pleased with how quickly he'd up picked his saber training, but his favored form, V (and he'd easily mastered both Shien and Djem So in his previous life) was not something that really suited his current body. He was just too short. As such, he'd taken a page out of Yoda's book and had decided to try and work some Ataru into his personal style. As Vader he'd modified his knowledge of the forms and had worked in some rather dark-based slashes and finishes over the years. Now he worked to replace those with the form IV acrobatics. It had slowed down his progress, but he didn't feel completely inadequate anymore. He desperately wished he had someone he could fight against and test his limits, but didn't dare ask anyone. The initiates didn't even begin to have the skill to challenge him and his unrestrained knowledge would bring up too many unanswerable questions from anyone else—not just in lightsaber practice.

He knew he had too many inconsistencies in his life right now, and he really had no way of addressing them without spilling the truth. A truth no one would believe. Even if they did believe it, he still did not want to expose the true extent of his past actions. The council and most of the Jedi hadn't trusted him before, and they probably trusted him even less now. The last thing he needed to do was confirm their suspicions. Still, he didn't know what he would say to whatever inconsistency they'd decided to confront him over. And he really had no way of knowing until they let him in and spoke with him and what the kriff was taking them so long anyway?! It wasn't like a council meeting or anything.

Just when he thought he might start pulling his hair out in frustration, a shimmer in the Force caused the door to open. Half relieved, half nervous, Anakin walked slowly in and bowed to the two figures sitting inside. Master Yoda, of course, and surprisingly, Master Adi Gallia. She had a reputation for being no-nonsense, but fair. She also tended to be a tad bit more open minded than the rest of the council (although that didn't say much in Anakin's opinon).

Still, he was surprised to see her there as he had no personal connection to her at all.

"Masters?" he said cautiously.

"Initiate Skywalker," Adi Gallia said, her voice soft but firm.

Yoda also spoke up, "Young Skywalker." He really wished people would stop calling him that. "Brought to our attention a certain matter was."

Anakin checked to make sure his mental and emotional shields were firmly in place before he allowed himself to reply. He needed that racing money! And he needed to be able to contact Dooku. What would he do if they tried to make him stop? Because he wouldn't. Of course, if it came down to a matter of his life at the temple vs. a chance to stop Palpatine he knew what he'd choose. Still, he did his best to remain calm. Unlike his former self, he would not jump to conclusions, no matter how worried he was.

"And what would that be, Master?" he asked as calmly as he could and almost winced when it came out a bit colder than he'd wanted. It would have been how Vader would have addressed Sidious had the Sith Master brought up unpleasant business.

If either one noticed, they didn't show it.

"Please understand," Adi Gallia said, her voice even softer, "that we here in the temple tend to grow up rather differently than you." Anakin wanted to snort. That was the understatement of the century. "Our entire society and way of thinking is fundamentally different."

"A bad thing, it is not," Yoda cut in to clarify, puzzling Anakin. It wasn't a bad thing he grew up as a slave? That didn't sound like the Yoda he knew. He was missing something. "A simple fact it is."

"You grew up in an environment that wasn't conducive to many of our ways of life, and so as such, we owe you an apology." Well that floored Anakin.

"W-what?" he asked, unable to keep his mask from slipping.

"We've been treating you as we would any other initiate," the woman said with a small, slightly sad smile. "We know that your mother is very dear to you and she did her best to raise you—"

"A fine job she did, hmm?" Yoda commented with a chuckle.

He could have sworn Master Gallia rolled her eyes there for a moment, in a fond way. Okay, too many mind-blowing events in a row. He couldn't seem to process it all.

"But you still grew up in an extremely undesirable position. Between your slavery and your force training it's truly a wonder we found you at all."

"Worried, we are, that mistreated you were," Yoda said, all traces of amusement gone.

Wait, mistreated? As in abused?

He had to stomp on a flash of anger. "My mother did not beat me!"

"We don't believe she did," Master Gallia said soothingly. "But as a slave, you were subject to beatings, were you not?"

Anakin closed his mouth, unable to refute that. Watto had been a decent master all things considered, but he'd still occasionally beaten them. It was the norm for a slave master. Encouraged even. He'd long since buried the memories in the back of his mind and it was something he avoided thinking about to this day, although he'd occasionally revisited them as a Sith to gain power from his anger at the harsh treatment (even now he was struggling to keep his anger in check) but truthfully he'd been submitted to so much worse. Palpatine's Force-lightning, for instance. Never enough to overload his circuits, but always enough to hurt immensely. Or getting his limbs chopped off. Or living in a state of constant pain as he walked around in a life-support suit. Really what still angered him about those old beatings was the fact that his mother was still subject to them at this point.

He did not want to revisit any memories like that in front of the Jedi. He knew himself and he knew his tendencies, and because one thought led to another, he wasn't sure he could conceal his anger...or his fear.

When he didn't answer the question, Master Gallia continued. "Or worse, we suspect. As such, we want you to see a mind healer."

It was getting _extremely_ hard to ignore the anger. "I'm not crazy," he said, his voice practically ice now. He was proud of the fact that he hadn't said it through gritted teeth as he would have undoubtedly done in his original youth.

"Say that, did we?" Yoda asked, sounding genuinely curious and frustratingly placating. That was probably why Adi Gallia and Yoda had been chosen to relay this message to him as they tended to be the most tranquil and steadfast of masters in the face of everything from galactic war to upset children.

"We don't think you are crazy," Master Gallia stated firmly, face fixed in a disapproving expression. "It's a matter of learning to deal with your emotions."

Typical Jedi. Their idea of 'dealing' with emotions was throwing them away and ignoring the fact that they exist. He'd tried, he really had, but he suspected that the fact that their 'solution' to the 'emotions problem' still irked him had probably been a large factor in his inability to meditate. He did not like the sound of this one bit. His memories were in the past (and another future that would _not_ happen) and should remain there. Besides, how was he supposed to 'open up' and give his entire life story to any Jedi? It wasn't just a matter of trust (which they still did not have), it was a matter of staying out of some sort of institution and a matter of not letting Palpatine know what's going on.

"I am not comfortable with that,"Anakin allowed himself to say after a few tense seconds, a note of finality in his voice that he hadn't heard for a while.

A sigh from the direction of the Masters. "You're not supposed to be."

"Know we do that hard it is for you to trust us," Yoda said. Anakin blinked in surprise, a little of his anger vanishing.

"Y...you do?"

"You've been trained somewhat in our ways, but you've been trained in the Dark Side as well," Master Gallia pointed out. "If you have been trained in the ways of the Dark, you have undoubtedly been trained to not trust anyone, especially Jedi."

Anakin stared at them for a few seconds, his anger continuing to dissipate. Then it was replaced by a sort of grim amusement. Her statement held some truth to it. Palpatine had always encouraged him to never trust the Jedi. It hadn't been shoved down his throat like a lot of the Dark Side philosophy he'd been fed after he'd turned, but subtly and long before his fall, he had indeed been taught to mistrust not just the Jedi, but everyone.

"A solution we have," Yoda said.

Master Gallia nodded. "There was a program created for people with high-stress careers requiring them to keep confidential information. As their jobs would not allow for them to reveal any details, it made therapy moot. The solution was a combination therapy program. The agents would be required to visit with a mind healer for what they could reveal, but they would also be required to speak to a specially programmed droid for anything highly confidential. The droid's memory would then be completely erased."

She paused for a moment, her hard expression softening ever so sightly while Anakin balked. He could never just spill all of his secrets to a _droid_. Still, he listened as she continued. "We want you to trust us, Initiate Skywalker, but we know that is a tall order for now. Until you can trust us, we will be implementing something similar to that program."

"For your peace of mind, this is," Yoda said with a nod. "Intrude upon your past we will not."

"As part of your initiate training, since you are surprisingly ahead in most of your classes, you are now required to attend a two time-block session twice a week with some mind-healers and a droid we've commissioned especially for this. The hard drive for the robot's memory will be entrusted to you to do with as you please. Wipe it clean or keep it, but bring it back to every session. We would hope that you could eventually trust us with your past," Master Gallia said, her firm voice and expression returning to its normal tranquility, "and any information of your former Dark Master you may have. It could help our cause immensely, but we will not pry."

Anakin almost let out a snort. Almost. They really had no idea. Still, they'd definitely gone out of their way to do this for him. Unwanted as their actions may be, he still felt oddly touched. Still, revisiting his anger was not something he felt he could do. He seriously doubted he could avoid the Dark Side if he prodded that locked chest too often and lost control again, and this time neither Padme or Luke would be there to stop him.

"I feel this is not a good idea," he said uncomfortably. They really had no idea what they would be getting him (or themselves) into.

"Unanimous, the Council is," Yoda stated firmly.

"If you wish to continue on as an initiate, you will be required to do this," Adi Gallia confirmed.

Oh, this was _such_ a bad idea. But what choice did he have? At least they hadn't brought up his extra-curricular activities. Thank the Force.

"Do you understand?" Her voice had hardened and brokered no argument.

He _really_ did not want to do this. But they weren't kidding about kicking him out of the Order. He'd been expecting something like that, actually. It had been a long-time coming, and was for a far different reason than what he'd supposed, but he'd still been expecting it. It was a bit of a confirmation, and while he was a little disappointed, he felt more grateful that they'd come out and just told him. He knew where he stood with the Council for the most part now, and that helped to ground him in its own way.

He still stalled in answering for as long as he dared. "Yes," he muttered finally and found himself desperately hoping that they wouldn't all come to regret it.

xXx

Author's Note: First, I want to apologize. Shade40 and Gamoden have helped me with my Fullmetal Alchemist fic (which now has a TVTROPES page! You should totally go check it out! Just search 'Anything but Normal' on the TV tropes site. *is very excited*). BATFAN7 is amazing and helping me with this fic (and doing a fabulous job, btw). So SHE'S the one that deserves props for this! And I thank her greatly!

I know this was more or less a set-up/filler chapter, but I hope it wasn't too boring. Note, it will probably get worse before it gets better. ^^; Between Anakin's therapy (or his version of it), Dooku and a few other things I have in mind...well, I'm just hoping that I live up to everyone's expectations. The response I've gotten on this is...mind-blowing. To an extent where I've only had one other story do this well (Mistaken Relations). I'm thrilled and honored and want to thank EVERYONE who reviewed (so many of you! I love you all!)!

Anyway, please let me know what you think! Is there anything that doesn't make sense? Anything that needs clarification? Any plot holes? Any out of character activity? I'd love to know! Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, are you alright?" Anakin looked up from the data pad he was supposed to be studying for class (on mechanics, he seriously doubted he'd have a problem with anything they could throw at him) and saw, to his surprise, Hale's fairly large, round face gazing thoughtfully down at him.

He blinked. The boy hardly said more than a few sentences in class (or at any other time) and tended to blend into the background. He was by no means particularly memorable and Anakin rarely spoke to him, but when he did he usually had to instigate the conversation.

It took him a few seconds to get over his mild surprise at the boy's sudden question.

"Yes," he finally said with a nod of his head. "What would make you think otherwise?"

The boy shrugged and moved to sit by Anakin. He and his group of initiate acquaintances had come to the room of a thousand fountains to study and had spread out over a particular clearing surrounded by trees and large piles of rocks that made the landscape look very natural. It had always been one of Anakin's favorite places to come before, and the other initiates seemed to enjoy it as well.

Once Hale had made himself comfortable on a nearby rock he looked at Anakin with a surprisingly intense expression.

"You're usually sad," he said finally. "Today you seem...anxious."

Anakin blinked at the boy and had to reassess him. He'd seen the other boy studying their fellow initiates in class with a focus he'd almost been jealous of. It had been one of the things that had drawn Anakin to take a closer look at the otherwise plain, average boy. He hadn't realized just how much Hale actually noticed though, apparently.

"What makes you say that?"

Hale raised one eyebrow slightly. "You act older when you're distracted."

That caused Anakin to stiffen a bit. Were his actions that obvious? Even to a child? Or was Hale just particularly insightful? He didn't think Hale had ever been taken as a Padawan in his previous life, but if he were this observant, Anakin couldn't help but wonder why not.

"I act older?" he asked quietly, turning his gaze back to the data pad.

"Yeah," the other boy affirmed. "You know so much more than the rest of us, but you usually try to blend in. You're helping us and you push us, but you don't have to. It's usually not so obvious, but when you're worried, you stop talking to us. It's already hard enough to get you to smile, but when you're like this it's almost as if you'll never smile again. So something's wrong."

It was probably the most Anakin had ever heard the boy say, and he found himself torn between being impressed, worried and a little shocked. Sometimes it amazed him as to just how intelligent the children around him were.

He shook his head at the thought, then looked back up at Hale. He had a couple of options here. He could dismiss the boy's observations as nothing, although he doubted the other boy would appreciate that, he could be vague and cryptic with his answers, or he could be outright truthful. He finally decided on the latter because it would help the others trust him more, and he saw little reason to lie at this point.

"Because I came to the Temple later than everyone else, and because of my background, the Council has decided that I need to see a mind-healer."

Hale's eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

Anakin shook his head and scowled. "They think I need help, apparently."

The other boy cocked his head. "What's wrong with that?"

Anakin's scowl deepened. "I don't."

"But...you're never happy. Won't the mind-healers help with that?"

This time Anakin couldn't help but be a little wistful at the boy's naivete. Such a simple outlook. It was both painful and refreshing. At times he wished he could still have that view of life. Then he remembered where a similar view had gotten him at that age and dismissed the thought ruthlessly.

"Some people don't deserve to be happy," he heard himself answer, a little surprised at the words and more surprised that he meant them.

It was Hale's turn to frown. "Why not?"

Anakin smiled sadly. "Because of what they've done." _Like destroy everyone around me and corrupt everything I touch._

"But as Jedi we can't be upset at those people. We're supposed to let those kinds of feelings go to the Force."

"I wish it were that simple," the former Sith muttered.

"I don't understand," the other boy said after a few minutes. "You want us to be happy, but how can you help other people be happy if you can't help yourself?"

These amazingly insightful questions were getting progressively more difficult to answer, mainly because Anakin normally tended to avoid these lines of thinking. He was contemplating a response to this, and had been for a few minutes (Hale was surprisingly patient for a child his age) when distraction came in the form of Maelee running up to them.

"There you two are! It's almost time for class. Let's go!"

Anakin checked his chrono and found, rather surprisingly, that the time had indeed gotten away from him. He couldn't be more grateful for the interruption though. He did notice that Hale still seemed concerned and even a bit protective for the rest of the day. He found the gesture endearing to a small extent, even if the motion was rather pointless.

xXx

Anakin forced himself to sit quietly, hands gripping each other tightly and unable to banish the nervousness from his face completely. He was about to attend his first therapy session and he would be meeting with both of his mind-healers.

He ground his teeth at the recent revelation. He'd found out that morning that the Council, in all its paranoid glory, had decided to assign him two mind-healers. _Two! Plus _the droid! Just how crazy did the Jedi think he was?! They had to believe that the Dark Side drove a person completely and utterly insane. They were right, of course (well, to an extent), but it still grated on his nerves. He was, more or less, fine now. He'd gotten over almost all of his problems with his childhood slavery years ago! And it wasn't like they—or anyone really—could help him with his more current and pressing psychological problems. Still, he had to put up with this (rather extreme) turn of events to continue with the Jedi, no matter how uncomfortable and useless he found it. This was, after all, still the best place for him to make the greatest difference.

The first mind-healer would come from the Temple. She was a master named Tai'k Xio and Anakin had looked her up in the archives as soon as he'd heard her name. She was an older human who seemed to like to wear her silver hair tied back in a neat French braid to keep the long strands out of her light gray eyes. Both features contrasted greatly with her somewhat darker toned skin. She had her share of wrinkles, but for the most part age had treated her well and she seemed like she had a good many years left to her. Despite her appearance, Anakin wasn't sure about her life expectancy. He didn't remember her at all, so he somehow doubted she made it to the war.

The second mind-healer was a drall, and Anakin didn't know his name yet. He wasn't Force sensitive in the slightest and would come to the Temple from his office once a week. He had degrees in the psychology of sixteen different species, specializing in child psychology for most of those species, and tended to take on clients with particularly difficult backgrounds.

Anakin was surprised (and a little annoyed) they hadn't gotten another human to help with his supposed psychological problems. He'd come across drall before as both Anakin and Vader. Most people liked to describe the species as 'cute'. Anakin had described them as furry pains. The drall descended from burrowing mammals, lived on a planet in the Corillian system, and were highly intelligent. Those that Anakin had met tended to use their diminutive size and appearance to their advantage because many other species underestimated them. The former Sith knew better. They were cunning and planned their situations out carefully and they could be just as ruthless as any other species if they had to be. They also took their duties very seriously and he had no doubt this drall would be a good mind-healer...for anyone else. He still just didn't know why a second healer was needed in this case. Or a first, for that matter.

Annoyed at the entire situation, he took a deep breath and let it out, imagining all of his anger and frustration being released into the Force. The only thing about his current circumstance that seemed to help calm him down at this point was the fact that the Council only knew that he'd grown up as an indentured servant and had lived most of his recent life as one. They also knew he had some Dark Side training (but they had informed him that it would be his duty to tell his mind-healers of that as they seemed to take their oath to not reveal that seriously...for once). Of course that also created a bit of a sore point as now he had to act like they would expect him to—like a 9-year old, recently-freed slave with some basic Force training.

Then, of course, there was the puzzling question of why the Council had insisted on this to begin with. Why hadn't they gotten him the help he needed the first time around, when it may have actually helped? Why now? He suspected it had something to do with the fact that he didn't have a master this time. Also, they hadn't exactly been the most supportive of him even being a Jedi in his previous life. Of course it wouldn't have actually occurred to them that he might need some sort of support besides a broken, grieving master. He almost snorted aloud. His former master, who had only taken Anakin on out of some misplaced sense of honor to carry on Qui-gon's legacy.

Stupid Council members sitting around with sticks shoved so far up their backside that they'd have to be surgically removed.

Anakin paused at the thought, almost mentally leaping at the distraction. That strange sense of sarcasm had begun to show its head again. Some remnant from his time with Obi-wan, perhaps? Whether it was or not, Anakin thought he was beginning to finally understand his former master's sense of humor. He'd already suspected that Obi-wan's sarcasm was his coping mechanism. Add a sense of humor into the situation and it made everything that much easier to handle. Now he'd begun to realize just how much Obi-wan had clung to that mechanism just to get through a day, if Anakin's own experience was anything to go by. He'd also begun to suspect that Obi-wan hadn't ever been altogether 'whole' even years after Qui-gon's loss.

He shook his head and glanced at the door he was waiting beside. He'd been to this part of the Temple a few times before, but he was no where nearly as familiar with it as he was with most of the rest of the structure. He'd just never had much reason to come to this area, as it was part of the healer's wing and he'd avoided staying there as much as he possibly could. Like most of the rest of the Temple, it was simple but elegant with the stone-like pattern in earth tones across the floor and similar, lighter tones for the walls. It felt very professional, but homey and welcoming. Anakin found he liked it very much—well, at least more than the buildings he'd been used to before his time traveling back.

When he'd been the Emperor's second in command, he'd had more than his share of (mostly unused) estates. He'd frequented the halls of the Imperial palace as well. Almost all of the structures he'd visited had a harsh, simple decor in shades of gray ranging from fairly light to midnight black. Then his own life-support chamber, or Qabbrat**, **had been a harsh white inside and he'd liked the contrast to the darkness that seemed to make up the rest of his life. It had still been a rather dramatic difference that did not encourage calm, but he hadn't cared for relaxation or peace at the time.

A whooshing sound drew him from his thoughts, causing him to look up at the door just in time to see Master Xio exit the room and smile down at him.

"Sorry to keep you waiting out here, Anakin," she said in a warm, soft voice. "We're ready to start now."

Anakin nodded, feeling that there was an undertone he'd missed but deciding that it didn't really matter at the moment. As confidently as he could, he straightened his shoulders and followed her back into the room. It was rather plain, he noticed, with cream-colored walls and a lightly tanned carpet. Nothing hung from the walls and the little sitting area had a couch and two or three arm chairs, all in shades of brown. Two small side-tables sat next to two of the arm chairs, one of which held the drall. The mouse-like creature smiled over at them, nose and whiskers twitching, as they entered, but didn't speak.

Master Xio took a seat in the other chair near a table and picked up a data pad that had been lying on top of it. She then gestured for Anakin to sit down after noting that he hadn't done so. He glanced at the couch and then at the chair and chose that one. He sat stiffly, making sure his feet were still touching the ground as he eyed the other two sentients warily.

"Alright, Anakin, you probably know who we are, but we want to introduce ourselves anyway," the drall said slowly, eyes darting over to look at Master Xio for just a moment before returning to Anakin. "My name is Girth and you're more than welcome to call me by that name."

The former Sith didn't so much as allow a muscle on his face to twitch. "Do you have a clan name?" he asked. Girth looked a little surprised that Anakin knew enough about his culture to realize that dralls still tended to identify with one of many clans and the name could (and often would) change whenever one drall family moved to another area.*

"I don't relate to a clan currently, no," he responded honestly.

"Mr. Girth, then," Anakin said with an acknowledging nod.

The fur-covered being snickered in a high, squeaking tone that held no malice whatsoever. "Just 'Girth' is fine."

"And I am Master Tai'k Xio," the Jedi said, introducing herself with that same, warm smile she'd greeted Anakin with. She looked genuine and he felt true interest and concern through the Force, although there seemed to be a touch of tension towards Girth. Judging from their reactions, they were coping with the strange situation as best they could, but disagreed on some point. It didn't seem to be anything truly major and they also seemed to have come to some sort of middle ground concerning the issue. Neither one of them gave off anything that didn't feel genuine.

"Master Xio," Anakin said with a stiff but respectful nod in her direction.

"We would like to let you know what we plan on doing and why you will be meeting with both of us," Master Xio said, obviously sensing Anakin's anxiety and deciding to cut to the chase. "I was asked by the Council to help you adjust to life in the Temple, but I felt I wasn't quite sufficient for the job. You see, I was raised in the Temple, and most if not all of the Jedi I help were raised in the Temple as well. As you weren't, I didn't feel that I could adequately meet all of your needs, so I asked that we bring on another mind-healer, someone who would know better how you grew up and how to work with you on that front."

At this point she nodded over to Girth who nodded back with a smile and took up the narration. "I'll admit I was rather surprised when the Jedi contacted me, but once I heard about your case I was more than happy to come and lend a hand."

Anakin kept his emotional mask in place and nodded. He didn't doubt the rodent-like being was curious, and the chance to work with Jedi like this did not come often, so of course the drall would have jumped at the opportunity. Anakin, rather cynically, wondered how much helping a Jedi—even a young one—would boost Girth's reputation in the field of psychology. He also bet that the Temple was paying out a pretty credit for this and figured it had something to do with the drall's enthusiasm.

"As such," Girth continued, "I am here to help with anything related to your past and your relationships with the people you used to know."

Anakin immediately came to the conclusion that this entire farce would be completely and utterly useless. He would not tell some stranger about his relationships. Those were far too precious to him to just broadcast. Besides, how was he supposed to tell the man about his wife and adult-aged son (and the daughter he'd never met**)? Or about Palpatine's machinations? Or about his complicated feelings towards Obi-wan?

At that point, Master Xio cut in graciously. "And I will be here to answer any questions about the Temple, Jedi in particular, the Force, what will be expected of you and what you expect from the Jedi. Once a month, all three of us will meet to try and find common ground between your previous life and your future life here at the Temple.

"Does this make sense?"

Anakin looked back and forth between the two for a moment before nodding. "I understand."

"Excellent. Do you have any questions?"

"What if I can't tell you everything?" he asked slowly, hating that he had to be so blunt. Already that question felt too open, but it seemed like something a traumatized 9-year-old would say...right? Besides, he'd already decided to try and be more honest. If he admitted he was holding something back, the Council and other Jedi might trust him a little more.

Girth and Master Xio exchanged glances.

"We will be asking you hard questions," Master Xio said slowly. "Many of them may not be pleasant to answer, but in the long run they will help."

"We will also be giving you exercises that should help you adjust," Girth said, his tone soft and pleasant, although Anakin caught a slight frown from Master Xio, but it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. "And we will assign you homework that you will be required to fulfill."

Anakin was liking the sound of this less and less.

"What kind of homework?" he asked.

"Mainly assignments that will help you connect to other people and be more comfortable when you interact with them," the drall clarified. "Also we will be assigning you topics to discuss with the droid. You are free to discuss whatever you wish with the droid, of course, but the topics we suggest are those we believe will be most beneficial to your mental health."

"Know that we will never outright force you, Anakin," Master Xio said soothingly. "We would like you to trust us, but if you feel you can't talk to us, then we would like you to talk to the droid. It will be able to interact with you and has been programmed to respond as a mind-healer might, but please keep in mind that it is only a droid and treat what you tell it as such. It will not have feelings to hurt."

He nodded in understanding. Basically she meant that the droid wasn't a person and wouldn't be able to react as one. He actually rather liked that idea.

"Also we want to reiterate that your sessions with us may be recorded if you allow it, but your sessions with the droid will not be by anyone or anything other than the droid," Master Xio continued. "We will give you a memory chip at the beginning of every session. You can do what you will with those chips, but we do encourage you to keep them."

Anakin doubted there would be much on those 'chips' to keep. This was ridiculous. He wondered what kinds of specs the droid had and was looking forward to his sessions with the thing just so he could tinker with it. That would undoubtedly be the best and most productive thing to come from this entire arrangement.

Still, he wasn't about to tell them that.

"Yes Master, Sir," he nodded to each of them respectively. "Thank you."

"We won't require a session from you today," Girth spoke up, seeming all too happy, especially with another frown from Master Xio. It seemed she wanted to get started straight away, but the drall had somehow talked her out of it. His respect for Girth went up several notches. If he could hold his own against a Jedi Master then he deserved it. Still didn't mean Anakin would trust him with anything, but he could appreciate the being's obviously steadfast nature.

"We would, however, like to introduce the droid to you," Master Xio said. She waited for Anakin's nod before calling out. "D-40, could you please come here?"

A door near the back of the room opened and a protocol droid walked out. Anakin just blinked at it as it shuffled over towards them.

"It's a protocol droid," he said dryly, unable to keep his face clear of the unimpressed expression.

"Master Anakin," it said in a low, obviously female voice as it walked up to them. "I would like to inform you that I am indeed not just a protocol droid. I am PXRD-40, and my programming is far more extensive than any normal protocol droid. Instead of communication, etiquette or protocol, my functions mainly revolve around understanding human psychology as best a droid of my caliber can. I have the most recent upgrades and will fulfill these functions to the best of my abilities."

Anakin regarded it for several seconds before he had to suppress a smirk. Messing with this droid was going to be easier than he'd expected. He wondered what he should tinker with first. D-40 may not act like a protocol droid at the moment, it was far too rude (he could almost hear his own old protocol droid complaining about D-40's lack of manners), but he could most definitely change that. He wondered how the droid would cope with only being able to speak in Sullestian until their next meeting. Perhaps he could make a list of creative languages?

"D-40," he acknowledged, proud of himself for keeping his face completely straight. He really was still far too used to hiding behind that blasted mask.

"Well, seeing as we've all been introduced," Girth said, "we're basically done for the day. Unless Master Xio has anything to add, we'll dismiss you early today."

Master Xio smiled at Anakin and nodded. "Your first session with me will be next week on the third day at this time, alright?"

No, no it wasn't alright. This was a waste of time at best. But he spoke up none the less. "Yes, Master," he said as he got to his feet and bowed. "And you Girth, sir. I shall take my leave now."

With that, he calmly walked out of the room and turned to head for the lightsaber training areas. He really needed to take his frustration at the whole situation out on something.

xXx

Girth of the drall watched his newest project walk out the door, refusing to let his smile drop until the door had quite firmly closed behind the boy. He and the Jedi Master sat in silence for several seconds before he spoke up.

"You said he was mature for his age. I think that's a bit of an understatement."

The Jedi Master acknowledged that with a sardonic chuckle.

"He's also hiding something from us."

Master Xio sighed. "I agree. He even said as much, but I know little more than you. The Council refuses to give us any more information, on his request," she nodded towards the door.

"And he doesn't seem to see this arrangement as anything productive," Girth continued with a frown and looked over at his fellow mind-healer for the first time. "We can't help him if he doesn't want to be helped."

Master Xio frowned. "Yes, I know. I believe that will be the first barrier we need to address. We will need to help him see how necessary this is."

"He does seem fairly well adjusted already," the drall pointed out.

"The Council doesn't agree," Master Xio said. "And neither do I. There's just...something there." She sighed. "I don't think I can explain it."

The drall nodded. "I'm guessing that's just something I'll have to get used to," he remarked with a grin, his whiskers twitching in amusement. Then he looked back at the door and frowned. "I haven't changed my mind. I think the best way to approach this is to help him accept his background and learn to let it go."

Master Xio frowned again. "We teach every initiate to 'let go' and I still believe you will be wasting your time."

"Releasing one's feelings to the Force as you explained it to me is all well and good," the drall conceded, "but it doesn't root out the problem. It doesn't address the source of the emotions."

"And I believe that it does. This is something you will simply be unable to understand."

Girth shrugged. "Perhaps so, but I will remain adamant until proven otherwise."

"As you wish," Master Xio said nonchalantly. Girth could tell that she was annoyed but would humor him and appreciated the gesture. He found it interesting that a Jedi of her caliber would take such offense to his suggested method of treatment. She seemed to think that by teaching Anakin how to acknowledge and deal with his feelings as a normal human would, he was saying that their methods were somehow inadequate. He hadn't realized that the Jedi were so ingrained in their traditions. It made sense, though, when he thought about it. Still it brought a note of worry to his mind. Following traditions for the sake of following traditions rarely left room for healthy growth and change. He could see the sense of following ideals that had upheld the Jedi Order for centuries, but it still seemed like a recipe for even more problems than those he and master Xio had already discussed.

Shaking the thought from his head, he looked directly at the Jedi Master and cocked his head. "Our goals are to help him adjust to the temple's lifestyle and to help heal any damage that may have been done by his slavery. I will warn you that, depending on the slave's master, healing that damage can be anything from difficult to nigh-impossible. Some of what those slaves are forced to do..." he faded off with a shudder that shook his whole frame and caused his whiskers to twitch again.

"Yes," Master Xio said neutrally. "I have been unfortunate enough to witness many such despicable acts with my own eyes. And I suspect that some have been forced into even worse than that."

The drall nodded and sighed. "Yes. I agree. I just want to make sure that the Council knows this. I think that if he is as damaged as you suspect that this will be a rather...long-term project."

The woman suddenly shot her comrade a glare. "He is not simply 'a project'. He is a little boy who needs help."

Girth sighed again. "I find it easier to be objective when I distance myself from the people I help treat. I do not mean to offend, and I gave my word that I will do what is in Anakin's best interest. I will not go back on that promise."

Master Xio regarded him for a few moments before nodding. "I asked for your help in this not just because of your success rate, but because I felt that I needed someone with a different view to give him the optimal amount of support and healing. I don't expect to agree with you on everything, but I do not necessarily see that as negative."

The drall felt a smile come to his lips. "Master Xio, I could not agree more. I am looking forward to your point of view on this. I've never really been able to study anything from the viewpoint of a Jedi before. I fully expect to find many areas where we do not agree, and I do not find that distasteful in the slightest."

The Jedi returned his smile. "Indeed."

xXx

Anakin did not like the fact that his escapades from the temple still felt like escapes. He would always enjoy the thrill of pulling something off that shouldn't be possible, even small things like getting out of and back into the temple unnoticed, but that was the only thing he found enjoyable about his general mind set at the moment.

He'd always felt the Jedi held him back, and had despised them for it. Now, after he had lead an entire fleet of star ships and a veritable army, he understood more. He'd been so selfish and focused on himself and his own growth as a teenager and young adult. Part of that he chalked up to Palpatine and his manipulations, but he hadn't had to manipulate much, really. He could see now that the Jedi had simply wanted him to grow in other ways and had tried to reign in the impulses that tended to be more destructive.

Even knowing all of that, he still felt that leaving the Temple brought a freedom that he reveled in. Out here, walking around on glorified stilts and with his arms long and dragging, he felt like a completely different being—like there was nothing in the world holding him down. No prophecy, no Jedi, no Sith, and especially no false, child-like identity that he had to try and maintain.

He knew it wasn't real, and that the weight of the galaxy rested on his shoulders now more than ever if anything, but for a few moments, he could imagine that he was just a normal, average, every-day sentient just trying to make his way in the universe, and he loved it. More and more the idea of being a non-entity seemed appealing lately. He desperately wished he could be someone who could leave all of this behind, go off and marry Padme, raise his children and just live his life...but realistically he knew that he wouldn't like such a boring lifestyle either, no matter how attractive it seemed. He doubted he'd be able to live without getting involved in galactic events somehow.

With a sigh, Anakin pulled himself back to the task at hand and looked at the diner at the end of the walkway. Right now he didn't have time or room for such indulgent thoughts. He had a Count to convince and a rather painful discussion to have. He'd already decided that the best manner to approach this would be to give the man the truth. If he knew exactly what he was getting in to, Anakin doubted he'd turn. At least, he hoped not. After all, if he'd known...

Pushing his thoughts and daydreams to the back of his mind, he moved forward, double-checking his extended, mechanical limbs for the last time. He was confident enough with them that he felt positive that he could pull this off.

He had to.

Steeling himself, he opened the door and walked inside Didi's Cafe.***

xXx

*I have no idea if this is canon, I really just made it up. There wasn't much about dralls on the wiki.

**Most fan-fics I come across all have Vader knowing about Leia being his daughter. Canon, however, only states that he realized that Luke had a twin sister, not who she was. I don't think he really had time to figure it out before he died. He never once referred to Luke's sister by her true name or title in RotJ, so yes, I'm putting in here that he didn't know he'd ever met her. Now I will say that if he sat down and thought about it, he'd probably be able to realize just who she was, but he never has—and that's part of his problem, he doesn't work out his issues, which is the whole point of the therapy to begin with.

***Dex's Diner before it became Dex's Diner. It was owned by a man named Didi at this time.

Author's Note: Someone commented that in canon there is no 'Light Side' of the Force. There is only 'The Force' and 'The Dark Side'. However, when I looked it up on Wookiepedia, it described two sides to the Force: The Bogan aka the Dark Side and the Ashla. Now we could argue that the Ashla is simply the 'Force' they spoke of, but it said it was in opposition to the Bogan and that they were both part of a whole. As such, I will continue to differentiate between the 'light side' and the 'dark side'. However, you have given me an idea...;) So thanks.

Note 2: Another one of my awesome readers suggested that I should give Dooku a first name. I would like to, but I want this to be as close to canon as possible, so until I can get a canon name, I'm going to continue to call him by his title of "Count Dooku", even in internal monologue.

Note 3: Thanks again to Batfan7! I couldn't ask for a more helpful beta! :D


	5. Chapter 5

As a general rule, Sith don't tend to take frustration well. Sidious had always been different in that particular respect. He prided himself on his accomplishments as a Sith while not allowing the Dark Side to control him. In his opinion, too many Sith had fallen into that trap, and he would not allow himself to become nothing more than a mere puppet.

However, current circumstances were trying his resolve. Intensely. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to unleash his full anger on the galaxy. Anyone with less discipline (which consisted of most of the universe) would have done so already.

It had all started with the initiation of his and his master's plan—the Trade Federation blockade on Naboo. Everything had gone so well, until the little wench of a Queen hadn't given into their plans. He'd gone ahead and removed Plageus from the equation, and he refused to second guess himself on that account, but he had to admit that everything had gone wrong since that moment. He'd lost his own apprentice (no great loss, but still a large inconvenience) to a Jedi Padawan of all people, and then all of his plans had come to a stand still. He hadn't been elected Chancellor (and Valorem had undoubtedly found out about his maneuvering because he seemed particularly wary of Palpatine now), he hadn't managed to get the Brat-queen killed, and although his standing in the Senate had indeed been strengthened, nothing had come of it.

To make matters worse, he could not seem to get hold of Dooku. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the man was avoiding him...which made absolutely no sense at all. He'd dropped a few hints here and there, but it almost seemed that the man had given up his search for the Sith. The idea of the former Jedi simply giving up after he'd gone so far as to leave the Jedi Order went against everything Sidious knew about the man's personality.

As he sat and contemplated his situation in his senatorial office, he couldn't help but clench his fists in an attempt to keep his anger and frustration at the entire situation under control. He couldn't afford to give up his discipline now. Not with his proximity to the Jedi. And it seemed that Dooku had come to Courscant as well. No, he couldn't afford to even come close to giving away any clues as to his real identity.

But why had Dooku come back? None of his spies had reported him coming even close to the Jedi Temple. No, he'd simply gone to a high-class hotel and hadn't so much as called anyone, let alone left his accommodations for any reason.

A new thought suddenly entered his mind, causing him to frown. Had Dooku come into contact with Sidious' other project...with Darth Vader? The Sith he had some sort of unexplainable connection to? The Sith he _could not_ seem to find? As if to tease him, the dark power had shown himself and then vanished. Now he could find absolutely _no trace_ of the man who fit the images he'd torn from the assassin's head. Every possible lead he'd had on the presence had come to naught. Had Dooku somehow found a lead and thought the being was the person he'd been searching for?

The implications caused both an iceberg of dread and a fire of anticipation to form in Sidious' stomach. While he may very well lose Dooku to the new power if that were so, it could also completely throw just about everyone off of his trail (not that anyone had found anything that could possibly tie him to the ambiguous Sith Lord they now knew existed, but still...). He hated the idea of hiding again, but loved the idea of blindsiding his enemies in the future. If the Jedi found Vader and pinned everything Sidious and Plageus had initiated on him...

If Dooku had not stumbled across the new, Palpatine would do just about everything in his power to get him to do so. Everything could only work out in Sidious' favor in that case. If he couldn't turn Dooku, it could drive Vader to Sidious and he would have his apprentice. If Vader could turn Dooku, Sidious would have all that more insulation between his enemies and himself. And then, if Dooku somehow managed to kill Vader, he would be ripe for the picking.

Perhaps the situation would work itself out, then.

Sidious frowned and examined that thought again. No, he was missing something. No situation ever completely worked itself out. Not in his (rather considerable) experience.

Still, he'd been patient up until this point. His ability to wait and act at just the right moment hadn't failed him yet. He would keep an eye on developments. Until then, he had some new plans to work out.

If Vader was on Courscant, it was only a matter of time until their paths crossed, after all.

xXx

Luke came right on time, and Dooku couldn't help but be a little surprised when he saw the rest of the masked figure's body. The being was lanky and had a loping gait that belied great speed, although it seemed somewhat clumsy. He could, however, already feel a power through the Force coming from the being that hinted at amazing potential coupled with incredible control.

Yes, he could see this sentient as a Sith apprentice.

The being saw him sitting in one of the more private booths towards the back of the cafe and headed directly towards him. Dooku had no doubt that Luke had scoped the entire area previously and suspected that the former Sith's nonchalance was nothing more than a mask as false as the one he wore over his face.

The Count didn't get up to greet him, instead giving him a nod and then watching silently as Luke slid into the seat across from him and waited patiently.

"So we finally meet," Luke said, his voice sounding sardonic through the vocal distortion.

"We do," Dooku agreed as he studied the being before him intensely. "You have mechanical limbs," he pointed out after a minute.

Luke shifted awkwardly. "I do."

The count raised his eyebrow when the being didn't continue. After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, Luke seemed to decide he could tell Dooku more. "My right arm was severed when I fought a Sith...another apprentice of Sidious." Luke paused and Dooku couldn't tell if the weight he felt behind that silence was significant or not.. This being had very good shields. "That was before I...turned. After I fell and took a Sith name, a Jedi fought me and severed my other arm and my legs when I made an error in judgment."

Dooku wasn't impressed. The creature that killed Qui-gon had been a master of the saber arts. This former Sith must not have been very good at his craft if he'd lost all four of his limbs like that. No wonder he'd run. The Sith from the planet would have undoubtedly destroyed him otherwise. He felt a derisive pang of disgust towards the cowardly being before him. Why should he trust such a being or believe that anything he said was true?

"I see," he said finally.

Luke must have sensed his annoyance. "No, I don't think you do," he said, his voice suddenly cold.

The being hesitated for a few moments, probably gathering himself, before speaking up. "Have you ever brushed the Dark Side? Touched it at all, willingly or not?"

"No," Dooku said. Not to his memory in any case.

The former Sith leaned back against the seat. "The power rush is...intoxicating," Luke said with a strange tone in his voice. Dooku could hear both love and disgust as well as hints of both longing and revulsion. It surprised and troubled the former Jedi because he'd heard that tone before.

During his time as a Jedi, Dooku had run across a myriad of people. In the fallacy of his youth, he'd wanted to label them all; simply place them in a category and be done with it. He'd had little patience for others and, if he were truthful with himself, it was still something he worked on curbing as he had that tendency to this day. As a padawan, those sentients that had disgusted him the most had been the drug addicts. Spice, Death Sticks...even the mere idea of any substance that caused severe dependence almost sickened him. Of them, Death Stick addiction tended to be the hardest one to overcome because as a general rule, the addiction was immediate and the cravings for them never lessened in intensity.

As a padawan, Dooku tended to avoid or look down on anyone who'd had an addiction in their life. He'd changed his opinion after meeting a young, single mother while on a mission with Yoda. She'd given them some information on a local crime lord who they'd suspected had been involved with several recent assassination attempts on a man in the local government who had asked the Jedi for help. When they'd asked how she knew this information, she'd reluctantly admitted that she was a recovering addict who used to buy from the crime lord's syndicate. To this day, he'd remembered how shocked he'd felt when Yoda had told the woman how strong she was without a hint of deception.

At the time, it had boggled his mind. How could such a weak-willed person—one who would get attached to such substances for a few hours of escape—earn his master's respect? When he'd confronted Yoda, the little alien had admonished him for judging too harshly. 'Many kinds of strength, are there, young padawan,' he'd said. 'Resist their own desires every day as she does, most Jedi could not. To be honored and acknowledged that strength should be.' He'd quickly dismissed the subject after that and hadn't offered any more thought on it, but after some thought and meditation, Dooku had come to see his point.

Luke spoke of the Dark Side like that woman had spoken of her drugs. It was thought provoking to say the least and he felt his disapproval of the former Sith begin to vanish.

After several seconds of silent reflection, the being continued. "Anyone using the Dark Side can still think as they could before, but the thought process is heavily influenced." He shook his head regretfully. "You don't even realize you're being influenced. You're imbued by the sudden power you're experiencing and the control you feel you have and regardless of the truth, you believe with your whole soul that no one can stand up to you. It is only after I returned to the light that I realized that the control I had experienced was a lie because for so long, the Dark Side had controlled me, not the other way around."

He paused for a moment before shaking his head again and redirecting his gaze to Dooku as if he suddenly realized where he was. Dooku noted his lack of focus for a trained Force user, but dismissed it for the moment as he listened to the other person's experience.

"My opponent was a gifted fighter, patient and determined even in the face of my onslaught. We fought and he manged to maneuver himself into gaining the higher ground. However, in my deluded state, I continued the battle. He cut off my remaining arm and leg."

The Count nodded, but frowned. "Why tell me this?"

Luke shrugged. "You wanted to know and I see no reason to keep it from you."

"It is obviously a painful subject."

Another shrug. "Most of my memories as a Sith are."

"Hmm," Dooku said thoughtfully. He was curious and wanted to press for more information, but he also wanted to address his original questions, so he changed the subject.

"Who is S—" he cut off as Luke raised his hand in a fast, cut-off motion.

"Do not speak that name here. You and I both know who we are speaking of."

Dooku didn't see the harm in mentioning a name but the people who could be found at the Cafe weren't exactly always trustworthy. Dooku knew he wasn't in any danger here, but slinging around even the name of a Sith in general conversation wasn't exactly the wisest idea, so he conceded the point. He wasn't worried about the information getting out, per se, and apparently Luke wouldn't be too upset if their general conversation was overheard or he would have recommended somewhere else. That didn't mean they shouldn't be at least somewhat cautious.

"Before I answer that question, perhaps I should answer your other one, regarding the Sith Order?" Oh, so he could say that aloud but not Sidious' name? Dooku's frown deepened. He wanted an answer to his question, and the constant diversions were quickly building on his last nerve. Still, he'd gotten a fair amount of information from the former Sith, and the Count would be lying if he said he didn't find it fascinating, so he decided to continue to humor Luke and allowed the diversion by stating his own point.

"Very well. I do not understand how an order that was corrupt from the beginning can be corrupted."

Luke sighed. "You're not wholly wrong. Do you know how the Order was founded?"

Dooku frowned. "A little." Very little, actually. There wasn't a whole lot about it on the holocrons in the temple. The few Sith holocrons they'd managed to come across apparently had very little information as well, although Dooku had never taken a look for himself.

The other being regarded him for a moment before speaking. "The Sith Order was created by a band of exiled Jedi who used the Dark Side. They found a humanoid race called 'The Sith' whose worship centered around the Dark Side. They subdued the race and made themselves lords over them for all intents and purposes. They then merged their own beliefs with the planet's culture, adopting many of the race's customs while working their own teachings into the Sith's religion. That is where a good deal of the actual philosophy comes from."

Fascinating. Dooku didn't interrupt, silently encouraging Luke to continue, which he did. "The Dark Jedi who would later become the Sith Overlords, made their code in direct opposition to Jedi. Anything that works in opposition to something simply to be opposing will never be correct. Do you happen to know the Sith Code?"

Yes. He'd heard it once or twice, although he'd never actively studied it. But the way Luke leaned forward stopped him from repeating what he could remember of it. "It seems you will enlighten me either way."

The sentient shrugged. "_'Peace is a Lie, there is only passion,'_ is the first line. Does that sound not familiar?"

Dooku scowled and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Luke took the hint and went on.

"'_Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.'_"

"I have heard it before."

The being shrugged. "Perhaps. But few people realize that there is a great deal of truth in those statements mixed in with the lies. _He_ used to say that a believable lie depends on one's skill to make it just true enough to twist reality.

"Why do I believe the Sith Order is corrupt? Because Peace is not a lie. I will also say that when I was in service to the Dark Side, I was continually bound down by the figurative chains of the consequences of my decisions." He opened his hand and gazed at the palm of it, although Dooku doubted he actually saw it.

After a few moments he seemed to come back to himself because his fingers closed into a fist and he glanced rather suddenly back at his current companion. "The rest of it is true, more or less, but those two lines I can't agree with, at least not in the context."

"You've been implying that the Sith Order has changed over time, corrupting itself from its original focus. If the Sith are still preaching this same mantra as it has from the beginning, how can it then be corrupt?

Luke shook his head slowly as if to say 'you're not getting it'. Dooku frowned, arms tightening across his chest in agitation the slightest bit. "Just because something started corrupt doesn't mean there isn't any truth to it. The problem I came across in my own studies is this: If the Sith set themselves up as opposing the Jedi, but they have truth in their original beliefs, does that not suggest that the Jedi themselves believe at least some lies?

"For instance, the original Jedi code acknowledges far more than than the current translation—_Emotion, yet peace.__Ignorance, yet knowledge.__Passion, yet serenity.__Chaos, yet harmony.__Death, yet the Force._ Somewhere in history, the Jedi changed their goals of balance to those of comfort and apathy. The Sith may not have started out with the purest beliefs, but their original ultimate goal was freedom; an ideal that most sentient beings strive for even today. Both orders have changed, and not for the better, I fear. For the Sith Order, what few changes have been made don't seem to help with the ultimate goal of setting one free, so yes, I do believe they are just as corrupt as the Jedi in their own way."

Dooku raised an eyebrow again. "Are you suggesting that they simply lost sight of their goals?"

Luke snorted under his mask. Well, at least he seemed he had a nose. "Yes, although, as I said, they didn't have a particularly clear sight to begin with. They were angry, upset, and on the run. And remember, the Dark Side doesn't just cloud one's thoughts, it twists them to a point where the user doesn't even realize their thoughts are twisted. Their rather illogical logic suddenly makes perfect sense. All that the Dark Jedi had on their minds at the time was their anger and hatred towards the Jedi who had rejected them. So while they could still think logically about actions and events and what physical consequences could come of them, and while they still had their own core beliefs to spur them on, they couldn't see the price they were paying. When they started their order, they were focused on rebelling against their former beliefs and most of them had been driven power mad.

"That's what makes _him_ so dangerous. He's the most level-headed Sith in the entire history of them." Dooku noted that he'd said 'them', not 'us'. He really didn't consider himself a darksider any more. How utterly bizarre and quite impressive. "Either that or the most utterly mad of all of them. I can't decide which," Luke admitted bitterly.

Dooku watched the being for a few moments in contemplation. Apparently, at least at one time, there had been more than a master/apprentice relationship between this (former) Sith and his master, at least on Luke's side. His actions seemed more reminiscent of one who had accepted some perceived betrayal of trust than one who had simply seen the error of his ways. Or, Dooku admitted to himself, he could be reading a little too much into it.

He noted this, but either way, he didn't particularly care. It was high time they got the conversation back on track anyway.

"And speaking of '_him_'..." the Count said as he leaned forward with a pointed expression.

Luke turned his attention to studying Dooku for a few moments. "Before I tell you what you wish to know, I want your word that you will not confront him as of yet. Gather whatever evidence you feel is necessary, but do not approach the man." Dooku frowned ever so slightly, but he could see the wisdom in the other's words, even if he only saw it as another exasperating stall.

"Very well," he said with a nod. "You have my word."

The former Sith seemed to watch him for just a few moments longer before he nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

"The Dark Lord of the Sith is none other than the Senator Palpatine."

Dooku stared in shock. "What?!" he asked.

"Keep your voice down," the sentient before him growled.

"That cannot be true!"

"Why not?"Luke asked, sitting back and folding his arms across the small chest.

"The Jedi would know! I have met with the man himself! I would even consider him a friend!" Dooku replied heatedly, although he did make a conscious effort to keep his voice down. No one should be able to hear him outside of the room-like booth they'd been seated at, but there was no point in being reckless.

Luke snorted derisively. "Then you are almost as great a fool as I," he muttered.

"It cannot be. You are deliberately misleading me!" Dooku insisted. "Tell me who he is!"

Luke leaned regarded him for a moment before he seemed to deflate. "The Sith are masters of deception. He has spent a good deal of his life focusing on hiding his Force presence for this very goal of deceiving the Jedi and the Senate."

"And how do I know _you _are not deceiving me?" Dooku challenged, still unable to comprehend that Senator Palpatine could possibly be anything other than a man—a very cunning and ambitious man, but simply a man none the less. A good man, from what Dooku could see. Although there always had been something about him...

He shook the thought from his head. It simply could not be.

"I am not," Luke stated simply in answer to his question. "I have no proof to offer you at this time , but I will give you a warning: If you choose to continue to investigate this, I am sure you will uncover things you are not meant to find. If you are discovered, you will likely not survive long enough to share what you have learned. This is a powerful man in every sense of the word. He does not traverse the darkness, he _is the darkness._ Death walks in _his_ shadow." Luke paused again and Dooku found himself too conflicted to speak. "I will take my leave now, seeing as we have nothing more to discuss until you can either trust my advice or you find a way to confirm it."

He moved to stand, but The Count stopped him. "Wait! I am sure I will have more questions at some point. How do I contact you?"

Luke looked down at Dooku for a second before nodding and taking a scrap of flimsy and a writing utensil from his pocket, although when he spoke, his voice was tight. "Here is another cafe. When you wish to meet, post a time under this name on Didi's Cafe's Holo-net page. Put the day you wish to meet on after the name. Do so no more than two days in advance but give at least one day's notice." He pushed the flimsy over to Dooku. "Burn that as soon as you memorize it."

The count looked down at the note. It had the name of a cafe on it (one he was unfamiliar with) followed by 'Tyra'. A woman's name? Just how cautious could a person be? Of course, if the thought he was going up against one of the most powerful man in the Galaxy, perhaps even Luke's excessive caution wasn't unwarranted.

He looked up again just in time to see the being walk out the door and sat back, crumbling the flimsy in his hand. He'd keep his promise to burn it when it wouldn't cause a disturbance. A few moments later, the robotic waitress came by and Dooku instructed it to bring him his meal. He spent the rest of the evening contemplating his own security and deciding to invest in some upgrades. He still wasn't sure he could trust Luke, but he couldn't afford not to at least look into this, and if he did so, he might not be as safe as he'd originally thought.

xXx

That had gone about as well as he could have expected, Anakin realized as he walked to the nearest air transport station that would take him back to the Temple. He gone to the meeting in hopes that he could sway Dooku to his side, but realistically realized that at this point, it just wouldn't be possible. Truthfully, he would be happy to settle for stopping Dooku from turning and joining Sidious. It would be nice to have someone outside the Temple he could rely on, but he knew he could never really trust the man, not after everything that had happened between them the first time.

Now he would just have to wait and see what Dooku did. He did not relish the thought. He hated waiting. Still, there was nothing for it.

That actually brought a new realization to mind. He'd finally gotten enough money to hire someone to start freeing slaves. He had someone in mind...a certain Bounty Hunter, if he could get hold of him. He was a bit worried as he didn't have the unlimited funds to ensure his loyalty, but then Anakin doubted he'd really need it at this point. It would just be a job, not even that high-profile. Besides, he knew the man in question had served his own time as a slave. It shouldn't be too difficult to—

Anakin didn't stop in his tracks, but he did pause for the barest moment. He was being followed. Dooku? No, he doubted it. It didn't hold with his current ethics and beliefs.

His heart suddenly froze. Sidious. It had to be. He would be watching Dooku at this point, so even if they hadn't heard anything that had happened in the diner (which he highly doubted as he'd had the place completely swept before Dooku had arrived and no one had even approached their booth), of course they would be curious about the person the former Jedi had come to Courscant to meet.

Ahead of him, he saw his air transport station come into view. As he approached, he gave it no heed and finally bypassed it completely. If Sidious' spies were following him he couldn't afford to go back towards the Temple. No, he'd have to lose his tail first. It shouldn't be that difficult...unless his follower decided to confront him.

Considering he'd bypassed just about every other point of transport he could have used, it was a possibility. That was one reason why Didi had set his cafe up where he had: it was situated very closely to both upper and lower level access ways as well as transport stations of all kinds.

Of course.

Anakin swept the area for an exit point he could use. There weren't a lot of people around as it was an industrial area after hours, which made disappearing into a crowd far more difficult. This was looking less and less appealing.

He had just spotted a lift tube and was starting towards it when he heard a voice behind him.

"Hold it, pal. I know you know I'm here."

Anakin froze and looked around. Anyone else who had been in the vicinity was hurrying away and there wasn't anyone else around him. He couldn't fight with his mechanical limbs. He could make walking look natural enough (if clumsy), but there was simply no way he could really fight if the opponent were good.

Besides, he knew Sidious. If someone were confronting him now, there would be others to witness the altercation. He couldn't take them all out before one of them got away. That meant he couldn't use the Force if at all possible.

Putting his hands up in a show of acknowledgment, he slowly turned around to face the person who had addressed him. He couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, or even what species as it seemed very large and was covered from head to foot in a strange conglomeration of armor and clothing. A bounty hunter then.

"You're not a thief," Anakin said pointedly, his voice dry. "So this isn't a mugging."

The being cocked its head. "I'm a collector of sorts," they said. "Mainly information."

Anakin shrugged his shoulders. "Then I don't have anything I can give you."

"Can't or won't?"

"I don't have anything to give," Anakin growled.

"I highly doubt that."

His frustration and fear rose again, and he tried desperately to reign them in before they turned to anger. The bounty hunter had to have some sort of leverage if he were this confident. Either that or Anakin had walked into an ambush.

Tentatively he stretched out with his senses, looking for other beings in the Force. He could sense focus and intensity, which would probably mean any such beings were focused on him...

There, on a neighboring building, and another on a walk way a quarter of a league away. One below him as well. Anakin had to admit that they were good as they had covered most angles.

"You see," the bounty hunter said, "I think you were meeting someone...and we want information on everyone that person meets."

"Why?" Anakin asked, although he already knew. The being may as well jump up and down and scream 'I work for Sidious', although Anakin doubted they knew who was paying their checks at the moment.

The bounty hunter scoffed. "Do you really expect me to answer that?"

Anakin shrugged again. "It was worth a try."

"Who are you?"

This time Anakin smirked. "You don't know?"

"Whether we do or don't isn't something you need to concern yourself about. Answer the question," the bounty hunter said, raising the blaster in its hand higher.

"Or what?" Anakin challenged, his voice still dry and unimpressed.

"Or my sniper friend takes you out and we find out in a more...personable environment."

They planned on kidnapping him if they had to, then. Probably would whether he answered them or not, but at least he could buy a few seconds. He had no doubt a sniper had their sights trained on him. He also doubted anyone would interfere in what looked like a confrontation between bounty hunters. No, he was on his own.

"Luke Lars," he said finally.

The being snorted. "Please. Your real name."

"How do you know that isn't my real name?"

"What kind of an information gatherer do you take me for?"

"Who do you think I am, then?" Anakin asked, intrigued despite himself.

The being shifted its weight cockily. "Does the name 'Vader' mean anything to you?"

Anakin felt the entirety of his body turn to carbonite. He couldn't help the shock and horror that rushed through him.

Funny how quickly shock can be turned into anger.

"How do you know that name?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

How could they possibly know that?! If they knew that then Palpatine knew that! But _HOW?!_ There wasn't any _possible_ way...wait...

The assassin on Naboo. Well, it seemed he knew who Sidious had tortured. But then, why wasn't Sidious after Anakin Skywalker? Why had he had his people confronted 'Luke Lars' instead?

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," the bounty hunter said smugly.

"No," Anakin growled, his mechanical hands now in fists at his side. "I am not Vader."

"But you know who he is."

He felt the Dark Side whispering to him that he had the power to protect himself at his fingertips. All he had to do was reach out and take it. He could take them all so easily. After all, it didn't matter if he showed his Force Powers now. Palpatine already knew. He could break the neck of the man in front of him and then he could go after—

_NO_! He yelled silently at himself and took several deep breaths to try and bring calm. It didn't help much. Yet again he felt like a cornered animal. He couldn't answer any more questions. They'd be able to see right through him and in his current state of mind there was no possible way that he could even begin to deceive them.

So he did the only thing he could at the moment. He ran. Awkward or not, he could at least do that, especially with the Force at his call. With a sniper (or several) in the equation he couldn't afford not to just get out of the situation at this point. Blaster fire shot after him and he reached out to the Force, deepening his connection and dodging and jumping where it told him to until he reached the edge of the walkway. Without so much as a hesitation, he dove over the railing (thankful that this bridge wasn't shielded like those higher up tended to be) and into a free fall towards Courscant's surface more than a league below.

xXx

Sorry this took so long. I was sick (three times in three weeks!), my beta was sick, we both had other real life problems to deal with...yeah, you're kind of lucky you got this when you did. Hope you enjoyed it. *evil grin here* *Runs away cackling madly*

Thanks again to Batfan7! Seriously I could NOT do this without her! :D


End file.
